


The Last Aspect

by Spazzcat



Series: VLD Aspect [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: A tiny bit of non-graphic smut, Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Angst, Asexual Pidge | Katie Holt, Autistic Keith (Voltron), Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Blood and Injury, Brainwashing, Cuban Lance (Voltron), Double the Klance because time travel, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Gay Keith (Voltron), Gen, Grief/Mourning, Horror Elements, Hunk (Voltron) Has Anxiety, Hurt/Comfort, Lance (Voltron) Has ADHD, Lance (Voltron) Has Anxiety, M/M, MOST of the major character death is in the past timeline, Major Character Fate Worse Than Death, Major Character Injury, Medical Horror, Mind Control, Minor Character Death, Miro, Multi, Mutual Pining, NOT canon compliant past the end of season 2, Nightmares, Original Character Death(s), Orphan Keith (Voltron), Panic Attacks, Physical Disability, Plague, Playing with quintessence, Samoan Hunk (Voltron), Seriously there is so much angst in this, Shatt, Shiro (Voltron) Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Slow Burn, Space Battles, Species Genocide, Suspense, Team Bonding, Team as Family, Time Travel Fix-It, canon compliant with seasons 1 and 2, klance, lion and paladin origins are not canon compliant, mentioned hunay, semi-sentient Lions, the slowest burn to ever burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-11
Updated: 2018-11-03
Packaged: 2018-11-12 15:58:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 60
Words: 307,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11165202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spazzcat/pseuds/Spazzcat
Summary: One cycle after the return of Voltron, Allura wakes to air filled with blue quintessence and seven human life signatures in a castle that should only hold five. The new arrivals carry dire warnings and desperate hopes, and the paladins of Voltron find themselves struggling to turn away from a path that is darker than they had ever imagined.





	1. Chapter 1 (Start of Arc 1: Time)

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so this is a plot bunny that got way, way out of hand because I spent too much time thinking about quintessence. I currently have five and half chapters written and this is gonna be long, so buckle up. Update schedule will depend on how fast I continue to write, and I'll probably post a new chapter whenever I finish writing another one.
> 
> Tags will be updated as I write. While not all tags will be for content already posted, all content posted should have appropriate tags. If I missed something, please do leave me a comment or message me on tumblr at https://vldaspect.tumblr.com/.
> 
> ((If you're subscribed and got a post notification for this chapter, sorry, I just had to fix the italicization because I forgot to fix it last night.))
> 
> IMPORTANT UPDATE REGARDING CHANGES TO THE TAGS AS OF CHAPTER 33!
> 
> There WILL be non-temporary, non-past major character death in this story! For more details, see:  
> https://vldaspect.tumblr.com/post/167208221610/important-plot-update  
> And please don't be afraid to let me know another way to get in touch with you if you'd prefer to know exactly who and don't have tumblr!
> 
> EDIT Oct 6 2018: Thank you to the amazing Confused-Bird for the absolutely gorgeous cover art!

Allura jolted upright in her bed, gasping, every muscle tensed and alert. A deep unease filled her, a sense that something was...not wrong, necessarily, but changed. Something was different that shouldn’t have been.

 

Despite the unpleasantly early hour indicated by the timepiece on the wall, a deep unease drove her from her bed looking for the source. One didn’t survive a war by failing to listen to subconscious instincts. On slippered feet she padded softly down the hallway, all her senses straining for anything out of place. Her eyes and ears and nose betrayed nothing amiss, but her Altean ability to sense quintessence…

 

The air of the Castle was filled with Blue, thick enough to choke had it been something tangible. It was just starting to dissipate, but such a concentration was like nothing she’d ever felt, far beyond what should ever occur naturally. Allura searched her memory for an explanation and came up empty, her disquiet only growing.

 

The bridge doors whirred softly open before her, the lights coming on at a low setting out of deference to the early hour. Stepping to her control platform, she sent a wordless command to the computers to scan the Castle for all lifeforms. A moment later the screen flared to life, the results of the scan displayed as colour-coded dots over the blueprints of the ship.

 

One yellow Altean dot in the bridge--herself--and one down in the engine room, Coran likely making use of his night watch to make some overdue repairs. One blue Human dot in the training room--Keith, most likely--one in the Green Lion’s hangar--Pidge, no doubt--three in the living quarters, and two in the Blue Lion’s hangar.

 

She froze. Ran the scan again.

 

The computer displayed the same result. Two Alteans, and seven Humans where there should have been only five. Unease flared into alarm, heart hammering in her chest, and she rapidly ran through her options before deciding on one.

 

Quickly she pulled up the camera feed for the training rooms and breathed a sigh of relief at the familiar sight of Keith carving a swath of destruction through a group of gladiators, bayard glinting in the bright overhead lights. A touch of a screen shut the sequence down remotely and opened a com line into the room. “Keith, could you join me on the bridge, please? We have a problem.” His head jerked up in surprise, but he nodded, turning on his heel and jogging for the door.

 

A few minutes later, Keith was standing beside her, still breathing hard from his workout and the run to the control room as he peered around her shoulder at the display. After a moment’s consideration he pointed to the two dots in the Blue Lion’s hangar. “We’ll start there.”

 

Allura pursed her lips and nodded, trusting the instincts of her red paladin. “Let’s move. Before our mysterious intruders do.”

 

The hangar was still and silent as they entered, no sign of anything amiss. Blue stood calmly, seemingly unconcerned. Keith frowned, head turning this way and that. “Are they inside the Lion? There’s nowhere else to hide.”

 

Allura frowned as well, reaching out mentally to the Blue Lion. She sensed mild confusion, a great deal of surprise, but no real concern. It was enough to confirm the answer to Keith’s question, however. “They are. How, I don’t know. We’d better hurry.”

 

Blue’s head dropped, ramp opening in response to the Altean Princess’s wordless request. Keith moved in ahead of her, darting silently from corner to corner as he peered around each one. Tension was evident in every line of his body, from furrowed brow to the way his hand clenched around the handle of his bayard. Allura followed, her staff held firmly as she pressed back against the wall, ready to cover him at a moment’s notice.

 

Keith moved to peer around the last corner into the cockpit and abruptly threw himself backward as a streak of red and silver flashed through the space where his head had been a half-tick before. Metal shrieked against metal for an instant as Keith blocked and backpedalled desperately, trying to put enough space between himself and his attacker to regroup. Allura lunged forward to support him only to be forced abort her strike to avoid a plasma shot from a second unseen assailant. Then:

 

“Fuck! Keith! Hold!”

 

The voice was unfamiliar, deep and rough, and Keith blinked in obvious confusion, even as he pulled back his attack. Opposite, his attacker pulled back as well, stance defensive, and Allura, still holding a defensive position beside him, got her first good look at the intruders as the unseen shooter moved into view beside his partner.

 

Her breath caught in her throat, a feeling of  _ wrong wrong wrong _ echoing in her chest. There was no mistaking the faces in front of her. The attacking swordsman was Keith, still staring down  _ her _ Keith across two blades still held defensively. And the shooter was Lance, gun lowered but clearly ready to be brought to bear in an instant. But this was not  _ her _ Keith, or her Lance.

 

For one, these two were older. Tall, broad-shouldered adults with stubbled chins and ropey muscles under the black undersuits of their armor. The plating itself was all but unrecognizable as Paladin armor, pitted and scarred and stained dark almost all over. And then there was the scars.

 

There were so many, some faded almost to invisibility, others still pink and barely healed. Lance bore one in particular that started at his hairline, ran vertically down the side of his nose, then veered sharply outwards across his cheek, just clipping the end of his lips. Keith meanwhile displayed a set of prominent claw-scars where something had ripped open the side of his head from the back to mid-cheek, taking most of his left ear as it went, and the top edge of what looked like a burn scar was visible just above the neck of his suit before disappearing beneath the fabric.

 

Even their bayards were subtly different, Keith’s blade longer and narrower, with more reach and finesse than that of the younger Keith standing beside her. Gone were the playful curves of Lance’s familiar weapon, in favour of something sleek and deadly that screamed of precision.

 

Most unsettling, however, were their eyes. They reminded her of Coran and Shiro, darkened with pain and lined with exhaustion, and with a deep weariness about them that spoke of too many battles and too few victories, of too much loss and too little hope.

 

There was a tense silence inside the Blue Lion as the two sides stared each other down.

 

“Who the fuck are you?” Keith _ , her  _ Keith, snarled after a moment, body still curled in a defensive crouch. After a cycle of fighting beside him, she could see his uncertainty and confusion. This situation was bizarre, and he didn’t know how to react. For that matter, neither did she.

 

“Calm down. We’re not your enemy.” It was the older Lance who spoke, dismissing his bayard into its dormant form. “Literally the furthest thing from it, in fact.” He rested a hand on older Keith’s shoulder, the gesture seeming to be a signal as the other man released his own bayard. Even without their weapons, however, they both carried themselves with a wary tension, never dropping their guard.

 

“That doesn’t answer our question.” Allura stepped forward with a frown. “Who exactly are you, and how did you get inside the Blue Lion?” She demanded.

 

Older Lance sighed and grimaced, running a hand through his hair. “It’s...complicated. And you’re probably not going to believe us.”

 

“Allow us to be the judge of that.”

 

“Fine.” The Cuban man huffed, eyes flicking to his companion. The shorter male gave a diffident shrug, leaving it up to his partner to do the explaining. “We are...Keith and Lance, obviously. But from the future.  _ A _ future, I should say. One we’d like to try to avoid having happen again. We’re in Blue because that’s where we started from.”

 

Allura and Keith exchanged stunned looks. Whatever possible explanations they might have expected,  _ that _ had definitely not been on the list. “You’re telling us you’ve come back in time?” Allura clarified cautiously, and received a nod of confirmation. “And how, exactly, did you achieve such a feat?”

 

A flicker of pain crossed tanned features. “...Blue quintessence. The Blue Lion’s core is pure blue quintessence.” Lance’s tone was raw, and laden with guilt, and Allura’s spine went rigid with realization.

 

“You killed the Blue Lion.” Her voice came out in a snarl of fury at the thought of the total destruction of part of her people’s legacy. “You  _ killed _ the Blue Lion to come here!”

 

In an instant she was on the other side of the narrow passage, pinning the man to the wall with her staff pressed against his throat. She heard a shout of alarm behind her and felt more than saw her Keith moving back to back with her, holding the older version of himself at bay.

 

The older Lance, oddly, did not struggle, only regarding her with tired eyes. “We had no choice, Princess Allura. It was a last resort, our only remaining option.”

 

“That remains to be seen.” Allura growled. What possible excuse could there be for a paladin to deliberately allow part of Voltron to be destroyed, much less the one they themselves were connected to?

 

“Then hear us out. Let us explain exactly why we’re here, why we felt, why  _ I _ felt that ripping the soul out of  _ my _ Lion was our best chance for survival. Please.” It was the grief in Lance’s tone that gave her pause, the raw pain of someone who had just lost something utterly irreplaceable. Who meant it from the bottom of their soul when they said that there had been no other choice. Finally she stepped back, lowering her staff with a stiff nod.

 

“Very well. I will call for a meeting of Voltron, and we will all hear what you have to say.” She gestured ahead of her toward the mouth of the Lion. “Don’t try anything,” she warned.

 

Lance gave a shaky laugh, rubbing his neck. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” He moved obediently toward the ramp, older Keith falling in beside him with a concerned look at his taller partner that was met with a lopsided smile.

 

Allura followed them out, wondering what the two would have to say.

 

___________

 

A light touch on his shoulder was all it took to startle Shiro awake. Eyes snapping open, he was met with the unexpected sight of Keith, in full paladin armor, with an oddly pensive expression on his face. “Keith? What’s going on?”

 

“Meeting in the lounge in ten minutes. It’s…” He seemed to struggle to find a word that would convey the situation correctly, finally settling on  “...Important.” 

 

Swinging himself upright in the bed, Shiro glanced at the clock and blinked. “An important meeting at this hour? What happened?” Growing concern sent adrenaline surging through his veins, waking him more effectively than any stimulant he’d ever tried.

 

A complicated array of emotions played across Keith’s face as he bit his lip uncertainly. The black paladin didn’t think he’d ever seen the younger man so rattled. “Just...you’ll see when you get there. And can you get Pidge from Green’s hangar on the way? I still gotta wake up Hunk and Lance.” All Shiro could do was nod in agreement as Keith turned and left, wondering what exactly had happened while he’d been asleep that could leave Keith so shaken while only qualifying as ‘important’ rather than an ‘emergency.’

 

By the time Shiro reached the lounge with a sleepy, stumbling Pidge in tow, the others were already in attendance, judging by the muffled voices audible even from down the corridor.

 

“--last time, I will explain once the rest of the team is present! Now sit down!”

 

Allura snapping at the younger paladins like that? Maybe the situation was more serious than he’d been led to believe. He quickened his pace, drawing a mumbled protest from the green paladin leaning slightly against him for support, and strode through the doorway. “Sorry we took so long, it--” He ground to a halt physically and mentally as his brain caught up with what his eyes were seeing.

 

On one couch, Hunk and Lance sat together, the former fidgeting anxiously and the latter all but bouncing in place with nervous energy and excitement. Keith sat at the other end of the same couch, eyes flicking across the various people in the room. There was a tension evident in the way he held himself, a nervous wariness that Shiro knew only showed this obviously when he felt completely out of his depth and unsure of how to act.

 

Between the couches stood Allura, pacing slightly in agitation. She was still dressed in her nightclothes, a robe draped overtop, but she carried her staff in a position that suggested she would be ready to use it at a moment’s notice. Behind her, Coran could be seen leaning against the far wall, eyes narrowed and expression unreadable. He carried himself more like a soldier than Shiro had ever seen from the usually cheerful Altean.

 

And on the other couch, the obvious object of the attentions of the other five, another Keith and another Lance. The difference between the two sets of paladins was painfully, jarringly obvious, from the cracked, blackened armor and pattern of scars to the way they held themselves as though anticipating a fight without any warning or provocation, and with a readiness of the seasoned warrior. As Shiro’s jaw worked wordlessly, there was a quiet “What the  _ fuck” _ from beside him as Pidge took in the sight as well that he couldn’t bring himself to reprimand her for, considering that was the only intelligible thought coming out of his own brain at the moment. Allura waved them over to the open seats and he hastily shook himself back to his senses, moving to sit beside Keith while Pidge dropped into the open space between himself and Lance.

 

As soon as they were seated, Allura began to speak.

 

“As you can see, we have some...unexpected guests. They claim to be Keith and Lance from the future.”

 

“Whoa whoa whoa,  _ time travellers? _ ” Lance yelped, giving voice to the shock Shiro was feeling and undoubtedly the others as well. Beside him, Hunk looked more alarmed than curious.

 

“Dude, that’s really dangerous! What if you cause a paradox? How do you know you’re not going to destroy the fabric of reality?”

 

“Because we’re from  _ a _ future, not  _ the _ future. It’s not fixed. And hopefully not the future that will play out if we manage to do what we came here to do.” The older version of Lance shot Hunk an easy grin that didn’t meet his eyes. “Even if it was, the, ah, method we used to get here is, by nature, one that allows us to make changes with impunity.”

 

“About that.” Keith spoke up suddenly from beside Shiro, startling him. There was a deep frown on his face as he stared across the room. “Allura said you killed the Blue Lion to get here. What did she mean by that?”

 

There was an outraged “You did  _ what?! _ ” from the younger Lance that nearly drowned out similarly horrified exclamations from Hunk and Pidge, and Shiro’s jaw fell open once more in shock. The thought of Lance, any version of him, doing such a thing, was almost impossible to conceive of, the two having a tighter bond than any of the other lion-paladin pairs. “How could you  _ do _ that?!”

 

Across from them, the grin dropped away from older Lance’s face, and he scrubbed at his eyes tiredly. “Like I told Allura and Keith before, there was no other choice. We needed the pure blue quintessence her core provided to make the jump back here. Mine wouldn’t have been enough by itself.”

 

“Of course there was a choice! There’s always a choice!” Lance raged, lurching to his feet, fists clenched and white-knuckled.

 

“Lance!” Shiro warned, trying to calm the younger paladin. It took a lot to rile the teen up, but when pushed over the line, his fury could be explosive. Shiro had only seen such an outburst once, and hoped to prevent a recurrence here and now.

 

The teenager would not be diverted, looking about two seconds from lunging across the room to attack his counterpart.“You  _ chose _ to kill Blue! She’s our friend! Our partner! And you  _ killed _ her?” He shouted, waves of fury rolling off him in the direction of his time-travelling self on the other couch.

 

“You think he doesn’t fucking  _ know that?! _ ” Older Keith roared, surging to his feet to stand protectively in front of his partner, who had buried his face in his hands. “You think he’s fucking  _ happy _ about what he had to do? Listen to us when we say that  _ there was no other choice. _ We  _ lost! _ Our allies were dead, our families were dead, the Lions were destroyed, everyone except the two of us and the Blue Lion were  _ dead! _ The only other choice we could have made was to let the Galra keep hunting us down like rats until they killed us too!”

 

A thunderous silence followed this revelation, seven pairs of wide eyes fixed on the future red paladin, whose chest heaved with the force of his outburst. As abruptly as he had risen, the man dropped back to the couch and wrapped his arms around the other Lance’s shoulders, pulling the trembling man close and murmuring softly to him, too quietly for anyone else to hear.

 

Internally, Shiro reeled. That was the unaltered future? Total Galra domination and the deaths of not just nearly everyone in this room, but everyone and everything they cared about as well? A glance around the room told him that everyone else was just as hard-hit by the information as he was. Lance had stumbled back and all but fallen back onto the couch, face ashen, and Hunk looked as though he was going to be sick. Coran’s expression was one of naked horror, and Allura’s was much the same. Although he couldn’t see Pidge’s face from this angle, he could feel her trembling beside him and hastily put his arm around her, allowing her to bury her face in his side. On his left, Keith fumbled for his free hand, a terrified light in his eyes. He held them both tightly, trying to offer what comfort he could while drawing his own comfort from the contact.

 

For several minutes, no one spoke, the only sound in the room the breathing of its occupants and the barely-audible humming of the tired and battle-scarred version of Keith sitting across from them as he rocked his Lance slightly in his arms. Finally the blue paladin sat up, rubbing at his eyes. Shiro could hear a soft  _ you gonna be okay? _ from Keith, which was met with a weak shrug and an equally quiet  _ not really, but what else is new? _ The dark-haired time-traveller frowned but nodded, placing a soft kiss to his partner’s forehead that had Shiro raising an eyebrow in surprise. If anything drove home how much these two had changed from the versions sitting beside him, that openly tender concern and affection cemented it.

 

Taking one last look around the room at his shell-shocked team, Shiro’s resolve hardened. They would do whatever was necessary to alter the disastrous events that had led to such battered, broken men, alone and desperate instead of victorious side-by-side with their team and family. He straightened, drawing the eyes of everyone in the room. Dark eyes flashed with determination. “Tell us what we need to do.”

 

__________

 

 

Keith shoved his spoon into his plate of food goo and stirred it mindlessly, tuning out the chatter around him. After Shiro had effectively pledged their support to the two visitors and asked what needed to be done, they’d barely gotten started when Lance’s stomach-- _ both _ Lance’s--had declared it to be breakfast time. Once the laughter had died down, Hunk had declared, in a tone that brooked no argument, that they’d all strategize better on full stomachs and properly awake for the day. The Samoan boy had shooed them off to their rooms to shower and dress, offering the use of his own room for the time-travellers, with instructions to reconvene in the dining room in half an hour. Keith himself had been grateful for the opportunity to get the sweat of training off of him and strip out of his armor.

 

25 minutes after breakfast had been served, the group trying to plan their strategy had apparently already run into a minor roadblock, in that the missions they’d been running recently were apparently so minor that future Keith and Lance had all but forgotten them. They were arguing back and forth over their food as they tried to recall details that would help them figure out, from their perspective, exactly how far they’d gone back so they could predict the movements of the Empire. Pidge was taking rapid notes on a data tablet, cross-referencing with notes she’d made on the missions they’d run as she tried to line up the two timelines, and the others were offering any details that occurred to them, trying to spark the two’s memories. With nothing to add to the discussion, Keith had quickly spaced out, thinking about the brief battle with his future self in the passageway of the Blue Lion and the way he’d barely been able to hold his defensive through his retreat against the older man’s attack. His older self’s fighting prowess was formidable, and it was a shock to realize how far he still had to go.

 

“--you say, Keith?”

 

The red paladin’s head snapped up, abruptly refocusing his attention on the conversation going on around him at the sound of his name, looking around in confusion. “Huh? I didn’t say anything.”

 

At the end of the table, Pidge grimaced, pushing her glasses up her nose with one finger. “Um, sorry, I was talking to Future Keith. He was trying to explain something and I couldn’t hear him over the dishes.”

 

Beside her, the younger version of Lance gave an exasperated snort through a mouthful of food goo. “You guys need nicknames. Future Keith and Future Lance are too much of a mouthful, and just calling you Keith and Lance will get us confused. How about…” he waved his spoon in a slow circle “...Mullet and Sharpshooter?” Keith snorted. Trust Lance to come up with the most ridiculous names possible. Lance shot a frown in his direction. “What? Do you not like my nicknames?”

 

Keith rolled his eyes. “Those are  _ our _ nicknames for each other, idiot. Pick something else.”

 

Lance huffed. “Blue and Red?”

 

“Our lions’ names. Try again.” Across the table, their counterparts were doubled over in silent laughter, glancing back and forth between their younger selves and each other and exchanging affectionate, amused looks. The older blue paladin raised an eyebrow as Keith glared at him, giving him a knowing look that had the teenager fighting not to let his cheeks redden.

 

Lance scowled, but went quiet, clearly thinking hard. His spoon waved distractedly through the air as he stared at the wall as though it held the answers he sought. Suddenly he slammed his hand down on the table with a yell of “I’ve got it!” causing Keith, who had just swallowed a mouthful of goo, to choke violently in surprise. He coughed harshly, trying to clear his airway with the help of a concerned pat on the back from Shiro. One of these days that boy was going to be the death of him.

 

Older Lance leaned across the table, grinning. “Oh? What names do you have for us, o younger version of myself?” He raised an eyebrow inquisitively.

 

Younger Lance shot his teammate a smug look. “Your nicknames will be...Alejandro and Kurogane.” He announced.

 

His counterpart’s grin was instantly wiped away by a look of shock. He straightened, turning to look at his Keith, who looked equally stunned. They seemed to hold a silent conversation in quirked eyebrows and small shrugs that left Keith baffled, before Lance turned back with an easy smile. “Alejandro and Kurogane it is. Now then,” he leaned forward again to tap one of the tablets in front of Pidge in an obvious change of subject “Where were we?”

 

Pidge blinked, then cleared her throat and picked up the device. “Maybe this would be easier if you just told us what missions you do remember, and I’ll tell you if we’ve done them yet or not. It’ll give us a starting point to try to pin things down more precisely.”

 

Lance, now Alejandro, nodded. “Right. Well, you said you’ve already gone toe-to-toe with Zarkon twice? Once to rescue Allura, the second to try to take him out? And the second time was the incident where Shiro accidently activated the emergency quintessential stasis feature and it took two months to figure out where he was?”

 

Shiro’s face flushed pink and Keith gave him a light punch in the arm to remind him of how worried they’d all been, for nothing as it turned out. In order to protect Shiro from an attack that she had judged unsurvivable for her pilot, the Black Lion had activated an emergency feature that allowed her to ‘store’ her paladin as quintessence in amongst her own. Neither Allura nor Coran had ever seen the quintessential stasis feature in use, and had forgotten about it entirely until an exasperated Black had finally managed to get the message across, by way of Yellow and Hunk, that Shiro was just fine, thank you, and would the Alteans please get their small fleshy rears in gear and help her separate their respective energies again. The red paladin still hadn’t quite forgiven the four of them for two months of gut-wrenching fear over Shiro up and vanishing a second time, and he had no intention of letting them forget it.

 

“Yes, that’s correct.” Allura nodded, also trying to hide her mild embarrassment and not quite succeeding. “It’s been quite a few periods since then without any sign of Zarkon. I had hoped that meant we’d been successful in taking him out.”

 

Kurogane grimaced, running a hand through his hair. “Only temporarily unfortunately.” At the various exclamations of disbelief and dismay, he elaborated. “As far as we know, we did do a number on him, enough that we didn’t end up facing him again for over four years. Problem is, he’s not the only major player in the Empire. By the time he came back, Haggar and Lotor already had us on the ropes.”

 

“Lotor?”

 

“Zarkon’s son. Nasty piece of work, cunning, sadistic, and not handicapped by an obsession with the Black Lion.” Kurogane’s expression was grim. “Ideally, we need to take him out before he finishes consolidating control of the Empire. Which means we  _ need _ to figure out how long we’ve got before that happens.” He looked back over at Pidge and Alejandro, who nodded grimly.

 

“Right. So as I was saying, Zarkon’s down for now, and you’ve already got Shiro back.” Alejandro tapped his chin thoughtfully, then frowned. “...You haven’t been to Chalthus yet, have you?” To Keith’s ears, the question sounded more like a statement, and he didn’t miss the way the other’s eyes fixed on Pidge.

 

Pidge scanned down her list of places Voltron had operated in the last few months, frowning. “No, I don’t think so. Why? What’s on Chalthus?”

 

If Keith hadn’t been watching closely, he might have missed the almost-imperceptible flinch. “Nothing critical. It was just a memorable mission.” Alejandro waved a hand dismissively, but Keith couldn’t shake the feeling that the time-traveller was hiding something. Chalthus, whatever that was, was more important than they were letting on. He filed the information away for later, intending to confront one of them if the opportunity arose.

 

If Pidge had noticed the evasion, she didn’t push it, instead looking over her list. “Alright, so how long after getting Shiro back was the Chalthus mission?”

 

Alejandro hummed softly, glancing over at Kurogane. “About 6 months, I think? Yeah, about that long. Hard to keep track.” He shrugged apologetically.

 

“Tell me about it.” Pidge’s fingers flew over the holographic keyboard, making rapid notes. “It’s already been almost five months since we got Shiro back, which means we’re about a month early of when we would have gone to Chalthus. How much time does that give us?” She peered up at them over her glasses.

 

Kurogane and Alejandro exchanged dark looks, the latter letting out a soft curse in a language none of the humans in the room recognized, although Coran startled slightly. Obviously this was not going to be good news. “Not as much as I’d like,” the older Cuban said finally, tapping his fingers on the table. “We went up against Lotor for the first time just two months after Chalthus. It...didn’t go well.”

 

“Three months is still better than none at all.” Hunk declared decisively, leaning over their shoulders to swap out their empty plates with extra portions. The yellow paladin had clearly noticed that the two time-travellers were worryingly thin under their muscles and armor, which made Kurogane’s fighting abilities all the more impressive, and was taking it upon himself to try to remedy years of stress and self-neglect. “That give us some time to prepare, and do anything that need to be done beforehand.”

 

Shiro nodded approvingly, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table. “Hunk’s right. We know the when, now let’s deal with the what. Pidge, new list.” He shot a smile at the tiny green paladin, who smirked back and held up a data tablet to show a fresh, blank file already waiting for input.

 

Alejandro blinked, seemingly caught off guard. Then he smiled, a small, oddly shaky expression that actually reached his eyes in a way that his earlier playful grins hadn’t. “Right, okay. To-do list. Kurogane, buddy, help me out here, we can’t afford to miss anything.”

 

The other man fidgeted with his gloves, staring off into the middle distance as he thought. “Start with the critical things that won’t necessarily be prevented by other alterations? Like the Marmora and the Weblum’s Breath?”

 

“Can do.” Alejandro pointed at Pidge’s tablet. “First item, we need to talk to Kolivan. The Blade of Marmora has been or will be infiltrated by an Empire spy.” 

 

Keith straightened in alarm. With how paranoid Kolivan was about secrecy, it just didn’t seem possible. The memory of his older self’s earlier outburst flashed through his mind.  _ Our allies were dead. _ “The Blades are in danger?”

 

“Can you be any less specific?” Pidge grumbled, her fingers moving rapidly to key in the item. “Do you know anything else we can tell him? Who or when?”

 

Kurogane scowled darkly. “If we did, we’d tell you, but we don’t. We didn’t find out until it was too late, when we went to the main base to...consult,” the last word came out in an odd tone that had Allura raising an eyebrow, “and found them all dead. Murdered. We had to assume their deep cover operatives were also wiped out, because we never heard from any of them again.”

 

The blood drained out of Keith’s face, and he felt ill. The Blade had started to become something like distant family to him, treating him as one of their own due to the blade he had first inherited, then awoken in his own right. The thought of them being slaughtered by the Galra Empire…

 

“And we need them to be on the lookout for something specific.” Alejandro continued, leaning over now to press shoulder to shoulder with his partner, the other visibly calming at the touch. “The development of a new weapon. I have no idea what its codename might have been while it was still in development, but the final name it was given was the Weblum’s Breath.”

 

Hunk looked alarmed. “That doesn’t sound good. ‘Cause, y’know, I’ve met a Weblum, right? Scary as hell. Based on that, a weapon with a name like ‘Weblum’s Breath’ sounds…” He trailed off, but the fear was still evident in his face.

 

Alejandro shot the younger male a sad smile, looking far, far too old for his chronological age. “You’re right to be worried. The Weblum’s Breath is exactly what it sounds like. A civilization ender, a world destroyer, a planet breaker. Another thing we didn’t know about until it was too late and couldn’t stop.” He took a deep breath, and now it was Kurogane placing a comforting arm around the taller man’s shoulders. 

 

“But this time we do and we can.” Kurogane murmured softly, placing a kiss to the side of the other’s head. “We won’t let it happen again.” Alejandro drew in a shuddering breath and nodded, drawing himself upright again.

 

“The other thing we need to do is make contact with the Icebringers, as soon as possible. They’re a large resistance group, with connections to several others, and we’ll need their help with a lot of things.” He started counting off on his fingers. “Information about fleet movements, manpower for the final assault, quintessence training, Shiro’s arm…”

 

Keith’s head snapped up, looking quickly between Alejandro and Shiro, who looked as alarmed as he felt. “Wait, what’s wrong with Shiro’s arm?” he demanded. Had Shiro been in danger from his prosthetic the entire time?

 

“It’s got an override hidden in it that Haggar can use to control Shiro with her quintessence.” The scarred man’s voice was grim but understanding. “But if anyone can disable it, or even replace the limb entirely, it’ll be the Icebringers. They’ve got the know-how of dozens of different species available to them.” Shiro looked green, but nodded, staring at his arm with an expression of wary horror on his face.

 

Allura leaned down to peer over Pidge’s shoulder at the notes she had been taking throughout the conversation. “So we need to contact the Blade, and we need to locate and ally ourselves with these Icebringers. Is there anything else that would be an immediate priority?” She glanced up at the two on the other side of the table as they looked at each other, checking mental lists, before Alejandro shook his head firmly. “Very well. Follow me to the main deck, and we’ll get things underway.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go, chapter 2. Before we begin, though a quick shoutout to the amazing PrinceMeerKat who reads over this and critiques my flow and pacing and makes sure I don't give away too much too soon. Please check out her amazing ongoing Klance fic Emergency (So Are You Listening?). You can find it here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/10523256/chapters/23229342

As they made their way down the once-familiar corridors of the Castle of Lions behind Allura, Kurogane felt some of the tension ease from his shoulders now that they were away from the younger paladins. He hadn’t expected this to be so _hard_ , coming face to face with the ghosts of their past, seeing those they’d lost, and even themselves, standing smiling and scarless and _whole_. He kept having to remind himself not to lash out, that this was real and not a Druid illusion created to torment his mind and soul.

 

He felt fingers brush against his and quickly laced them with his own, exchanging reassuring squeezes with his long-time partner. Their arms pressed together, the sleeve of the Altean shirt Coran had provided rubbing smoothly over his skin in a way that made his skin itch, the sensation of any fabric other than his black undersuit unfamiliar and uncomfortable after months of wearing nothing but his armor and years of wearing little else. Everything felt strange, like a waking dream, and he kept expecting to wake up back in the too-cold cockpit of the Blue Lion, limbs tangled with Lance’s--Alejandro’s while the other kept watch on the distant stars over an airless moon.

 

But it wasn’t a dream, they were here, in the past, having used their last, desperate option to try to avert years of pain and loss and create a universe where things didn’t end in tragedy and death. They had only a few months to try to change course before things would start going wrong, and they needed to act quickly. Especially when it came to helping the paladins reach their full potential. As things were now, even with the allies they were about to bring on board, an all-out fight against the Galra empire, Lotor, and especially Haggar would be a slaughter and it would all be for nothing.

 

“Do you have a plan for getting in touch with the Icebringer fleet?” He muttered quietly, watching Alejandro out of the corner of his eye as they walked. “Because I don’t. They found us last time, and there’s no telling where their ships might be right now, or what communication codes they’re using.”

 

“Not a problem,” the taller man answered cheerfully, giving him a lopsided grin. “We don’t need to know where they are to get a message to them, because all we have to do is direct our message to Sh’ra H’ressnol, which we _do_ know the location of, and they can pass it on to the fleet for us.”

 

Kurogane blinked. “Clever. So, we’ll send off a message to them first, then we’ll contact the Blade directly?”

 

“That’s what I was thinking.” Alejandro nodded as the bridge doors whooshed open ahead of Allura. Following her in, he looked to her for permission as he stepped up to the main communications panel. Seeing her calm nod, he pulled up the message recording system. “Help me out here, babe? You were always better at the growly languages that I was.”

 

Kurogane laughed, stepping into the camera frame. “Probably a good idea, we’re trying to form an alliance, not tell them their feet are pretty.”

 

“That was one time! H’ress’wr is _hard_!”

 

“Not that hard, you just have a terrible accent.” Kurogane snorted. “Alright, here goes.” He cleared his throat, taking a deep breath before hitting the record button and beginning to speak. The language that emerged from his throat, to Allura’s visible shock, consisted of pitched snarls and growls, carefully enunciated. “ _Good trading. My name is Kurogane, and I speak on behalf of the paladins of Voltron. We wish to join our pack with those already hunting against the Galra Empire, for the sake of bringing the hunt to a close. We also desire to trade with the packs, your assistance for our knowledge. We have vital information gained through the final aspect of blue quintessence._ ” That sentence alone should be enough to establish their credentials, and impress the importance of their message. “ _I ask you to please pass this message to Pack Leader Shiiar’keh of the Long Wind as soon as possible, with this frequency as our communication line. Time is short and storms are gathering. Good hunting._ ”

 

The recording switched off, and he leaned in to program in the target coordinates the message would be transmitted to. Likely it would take a few days before they would hear back, since the message would need to reach its destination, be listened to and acted on, transmitted again, and then a decision to act reached, hopefully in their favour. A final keystroke send the recording streaking away through hyperspace, and Kurogane turned to Allura. “Can you take us to the Blade’s headquarters? This is a conversation best held face to face.”

 

The princess nodded, stepping up to her control pillars. “How is it that you come to speak fluent H’ress’wr?” she asked curiously as she allowed her quintessence to flow into the ship’s controls. “As some of the universe’s most formidable warriors, the H’ress would have been Zarkon’s next target once he finished wiping out the Alteans.” Her eyes showed a deep sadness at the painful topic.

 

Alejandro exchanged startled glances with Kurogane before their eyes widened in realization. This Allura didn’t know, Kurogane realized. Of course she didn’t. She hadn’t lived what her future self had, and they needed to stop forgetting that. He hastily cleared his throat, directing his attention back to Allura. “Actually, about that. Don’t believe everything you read in the Galran history books. He may have _tried_ to wipe the Altean race off the starmap, but he didn’t succeed.”

 

Allura’s breath caught in her throat as she stared at them, hands stilling on the controls midway through the wormhole activation sequence. “You’re...you’re serious. Some survived?” Her voice cracked with desperate hope.

 

Alejandro nodded, a gentle sympathy showing in his face. “The H’ress aren’t stupid, they weren’t going to just sit around and wait for Zarkon to obliterate H’ress’nol like he did with Altea. They loaded their civilization onto massive colony ships and scattered to the stellar winds, and when they did they took any Altean they could get their hands on before the Galra soldiers did. There were enough of your people off-world when Altea fell, and enough H’ress ships got away safely, that both races survived. H’ress and Alteans make up the two largest groups among the races represented in the Icebringer resistance, as well as on Sh’ra H’ressnol. You’ll see them once they answer our message.” His tone was gentle and understanding, and he stepped forward when Allura stumbled off the platform toward them to throw her arms around his neck in a tight embrace. He held her for a long moment while her body trembled with tears, and neither he nor Kurogane said anything when she finally stepped back to wipe the tears from her eyes and compose herself.

 

“I...thank you. Both of you.” Her smile was so blinding with gratitude that Kurogane had to turn away in embarrassment before she turned to step back up to her control platform. Taking a deep breath, she activated the wormhole sequence to send them plunging through folded space to the star system that held the Blade of Marmora’s headquarters.

 

________

 

Alejandro’s mother had once told him that the longer you went without seeing someone, the less you remembered of their flaws. That being said, he was reasonably sure that four years should not have been anywhere near enough time to dull the memory of Kolivan’s sheer, unrelenting stubbornness.

 

They had been going back and forth for a good twenty minutes, trying everything they could think of to convince the leader of the Blade of Marmora that they were, in fact, time travellers and not...whatever the hell the Galra thought they were. Even Allura’s assurances were carrying no weight, which, okay, fair, it hadn’t been that long ago relative to this point in time that she’d been giving Keith the cold shoulder over his Galra heritage, but still. Finally, out of sheer exasperation, he slapped his hand down on the table.

 

“Okay, you know what? How about this: Bring Slav out and let us talk to him. If he doesn’t believe us either, then we’ll piss off. And if he does, you listen to what we have to say.”

 

There was a pause as Kolivan eyed them consideringly from the screen, looking them up and down as though searching for any signs of a bluff. “Very well.” He said finally, turning to speak to someone off-camera. Alejandro huffed, crossing his arms irritably while they waited in silence. Silently he hoped that he wasn’t making a mistake, that the genius engineer would be able to tell what they were.

 

Thankfully, it didn’t take long for the other Galra to return, Slav wrapped around his shoulders like a living scarf. Even more thankfully, the Bytor took one look at them and all but threw himself at the screen, eyes wide with unadulterated awe and fascination. “Time travellers! That is something that occurs in only 0.000003% of realities! Tell me, what method did you use to travel back?”

 

The Cuban blinked, then grinned in relief. He should never have doubted. “Good to see you too, Slav. We used blue quintessence.”

 

“Excellent, excellent!” The Bytor’s head bobbed approvingly. “Time travellers are 26 times more likely to succeed in their endeavors in realities where they use blue quintessence to make the journey than in ones where they use red.” Alejandro shot a surprised look at his equally stunned partner, but before either they or Slav could ask any further questions, Kolivan intervened.

 

“Thank you, Slav.” The genius engineer was hauled away protesting by his escort, and the leader of the Blade turned his attention back to the two battle-scarred paladins. “...You have made your point. What information do you need to deliver?”

 

Kurogane rolled his eyes, forcing Alejandro to bite down on a laugh. Typical Kolivan, straight to business as though they hadn’t just spent almost half an hour trying to prove their credentials to him. “Two things,” the red paladin stated firmly. “A warning of danger and something to watch for. The first is that at some point, the Blade of Marmora has been or will be infiltrated.” Seeing Kolivan looking at him expectantly, he continued. “We don’t know how, who, or when, only that they were able to keep you from learning of a critical development until it was too late, or at least keeping you from knowing enough to warn us. And in a bit less than one and a half Altean cycles, the Blade will be slaughtered to a man”

 

The Galra sucked in a breath sharply at the news. Alejandro couldn’t remember ever seeing the leader’s stoic facade crack before, and somehow that reaction was almost worse than all the other responses to the various bombshell revelations they’d been dropping. Even Shiro’s sick horror at the knowledge that Haggar could use the arm she’d given him to take him over hadn’t hurt this much. Maybe because even until the last time they’d seen him, Kolivan had always seemed unshakeable, a rock of imperturbability in the chaotic sea of war. That he could falter was an uncomfortable reminder that every single person they knew was only human, as it were, and vulnerable.

 

“The second item?” The alien spoke after a moment, posture somehow even stiffer than usual.

 

“A weapon, either already or soon to be in development. A planet destroyed, with the final name of Weblum’s Breath, that will see its first full deployment at the same time as the fall of the Marmora.” The blue paladin’s face was pinched and pale at the memory, his tone harsh and his fists clenched at his side.

 

Kolivan looked him up and down again, saying nothing, and Alejandro suspected that the Galra knew everything he wasn’t saying about the where and the why of that deployment. “I will have the operatives I am certain I can trust begin looking for the information you require. Thank you for your warning, and good luck.” The connection closed before any of them could formulate a response.

 

Alejandro sighed, leaning forward and resting his hands on the edge of the panel. “That went...well?” He looked over at his partner.

 

Kurogane sighed, waving a hand dismissively. “We delivered the crucial information relevant to the Blade. That’s what matters. We have other things to worry about.”

 

The blue paladin nodded, lifting his head to stare out at the stars surrounding the ship. They looked just the same as they always had, all the times he’d found himself watching them, pretending he could see Sol from wherever he was, and then later, when watching the stars was a necessity for survival that he hated because it reminded him of what the Galra had done.

 

“Allura,” he said abruptly, straightening. “Do you mind if we make use of the star map for a while?”

 

The Altean princess gave him a searching look, much like the one Kolivan had given. “Of course.” she said softly, touching the controls and bringing up the holographic projection to fill the open space around the three of them. “Take all the time you need. I should go share the good news you’ve given me with Coran.” She gave them a sad, understanding smile and left the room, dimming the overhead lights for better viewing on her way out.

 

He waited until the bridge doors whirred closed behind her before tapping the screen to bring up the controls for the map. He keyed in the coordinates without looking, a set of numbers that had been ingrained into his very being for the last seven years. The projection shifted, stars and galaxies whipping past until they plunged into a yellow dwarf system and stopped, a glowing blue-and-green marble of a world hanging in front of them, its sister moon moving in a slow circle around it. A world not yet touched by the Galra, not yet shattered into a second asteroid belt littered with the bodies of the dead by the destructive touch of the Weblum’s Breath. A world, a civilization, a _home_ that could still be saved.

 

Alejandro’s breath caught in his throat, turned into a sob. He felt Kurogane’s arms folding around him and, turning into the embrace, allowed himself to break.

 

_________

 

 

The rattle of metal on metal was a comforting touch of the familiar as Hunk slid another pan of baked goods into the cooling rack he’d built. Breathing deeply of the intermingling scents, he turned back to the stacks of ingredients spread across the counter, allowing his fingers to choose the next project while he let his mind continue to turn over the event of that morning.

 

Normally they would have been training at this time of day, but Shiro had been quick to call that off for the time being. Even if the black paladin hadn’t been watching his prosthetic arm as though it might jump up and bite him if he took his eyes off it for a second, there was definitely no way any of them would have been able to focus on beating up a gladiator robot after being told that if things had continued as they were, it would have spelled disaster for the entire universe. So after the two visitors had left with Allura to contact the Blade and the Icebringers, Shiro had simply declared “Free day today. Just...make sure you talk to each other if you need to.” and left them to their own devices.

 

Keith had disappeared almost instantly in the direction of the training room, Pidge and Lance were who-knew-where, and Hunk had headed straight for the kitchen and the almost meditative rhythm of mixing ingredients and kneading dough, the smells and textures a soothing anodyne for the tempest of anxious thoughts in his head.

First and most frightening was the revelation that not only had they lost the war, they’d lost _everything_ . Their friends, their family, their homes, and for most of them, even their lives. They knew this was a war, that danger was a fact of life and death always a possibility, but somehow there had always been that feeling of _it won’t happen to us_. All their successful battles had given them a subtle feeling of invincibility, and it was an ice cold wake-up call to learn that it could--would--had? happened to them.

 

How long had it taken for Kurogane and Alejandro, the future versions of two of the people that had become his family here on this ship, to lose everyone they cared about? What order had they died in? How had each of them been lost? Had their Lions been lost with them, or separately?

 

Obviously, the war had not been lost quickly. Kurogane and Alejandro were full-grown men, relative to the teenagers that Keith and Lance still were, but exactly how much older was hard to say. At least as old as Shiro was now, maybe older. Their bodies were fit and muscled, if with a leanness that suggested they’d been living on short rations for some time, but their skin, what could be seen of it, was littered with scars old and new, and their eyes carried shadows that made them look decade older than they should. Hunk wondered how Lance was feeling, looking at Alejandro and knowing _that could be you one day, if everything goes wrong_. The yellow paladin slid another tray into the oven and made a mental note to find Lance and talk to him. If the thought of a future without their families was messing with Hunk this badly, then his best friend must be an absolute wreck.

 

Then there was the fact that just when they had thought the war was nearly won, it turned out there was an even worse enemy waiting in the wings, on top of the fact that they hadn’t even killed Zarkon, just put him on the sidelines for a while. Not even that long, in the grand scheme of things, because Zarkon had been ruling the Galra Empire with an iron fist for 10000 years, so a few years to recover was probably nothing to him. And then when you added Haggar into the mix...Hunk shuddered, hastily busying himself decorating a tray of neon-green cupcakes with purple-and-black icing, spiraling the piping bag in a steady pattern until the wave of panic subsided.

 

The one piece of really good news, as far as Hunk was concerned as he forcibly shoved his train of thought in a more positive direction, was that Kurogane and Alejandro were unquestionably a Thing. The Samoan had seen enough couples to be reasonably sure that the two had been an item for some time, and were highly unlikely to ever separate. Which was very good news for Lance, who had definitely had a thing for Keith pretty much since his first week at the Garrison no matter how much claimed to hate the “stupid talented mullet-head with his ridiculous soft hair and stupid pretty eyes.” Hunk snorted, carefully layering pale orange pastry over a pie filled with some unidentified fruit. Protest too much, indeed. Well, he definitely had a chance with Keith, apparently, and as his best friend, it was Hunk’s duty to make sure Lance was well-informed of that fact.

 

He was pulled from his train of thought by a chorus of squeaks. Looking down, he saw the mice peering up at him hopefully from beside one of the mixing bowls. Hunk laughed, turning to his racks of cooled pastries. “Yeah, yeah, they’re ready. Strawberry danish for Platt, chocolate oatmeal cookies for Chuchule, a cupcake for Plachu, and a cinnamon roll for Chulatt. Right?” Hearing squeaks of agreement he set a plate of the appropriate baked goods down on the counter. “Careful, the danish is still kinda hot.”

 

Sliding the pie he’d been working on into the oven, Hunk set to work cleaning up the kitchen. Baking had always been his favourite form of stress relief, and the fact that the results could be used to cheer up other people was an added bonus. He hummed to himself as he washed the various bowls and scoops, neatly packing away the cooled pastries into containers so he could wash the pans as well.

 

It was as he was boxing up Lance’s favourite mango tarts (a violent shade of magenta and not actually mango, but they tasted just the same), that an idea came to him. He looked over at the mice with a smile. “Think you guys could do me a favour when you’re done eating?” Chuchule waved a paw agreeably, chocolate all over her whiskers. “Awesome.”

 

Digging around, he produced a smaller container, one that the four mice should be able to carry between them even once it was full. Quickly he filled half the container with mango tarts, then pulled out the tray of Keith’s preferred peanut butter cookies and packed the remaining space with as many as he could. Hunk started to put the lid on the container, then frowned. Something was still missing.

 

Letting his eyes wander around the room, they landed on the notepad he used for jotting down his culinary experiments, preferring not to risk getting grubby fingers all over a tablet. His face lit up and he grabbed for his pen.

 

A few minutes later the mice were hoisting the container to their tiny shoulders, looking to him for direction. “Take it to Alejandro and Kurogane, okay? Thanks guys, you rock.” He waved as they ran off, then turned his attention back to rescuing his pie from the oven.

 

__________

 

Too keyed up to sit still, Lance wandered the hallways of the Castle, letting his fingers trace over the edges of the walls and doors and restless feet carry him aimlessly as he communed with Blue through the mental link of the lion bond.

 

For the most part, they had been reviewing the morning’s discussions, with Blue adding her own rumbling comments on everything. She had been quick to reassure him that regardless of what a future version of him may have done to a future version of her, she and he were perfectly fine and healthy and she was not going anywhere. She also informed him that since Alejandro was, in fact, Lance of the future, the situation must have been truly desperate for him to do as he had done because Lance would not have done something like that otherwise, and that she could not see any version of herself being reluctant to do whatever was necessary to help any version of him, even at the cost of her own destruction.

 

Lance agreed, although the thought of having to do something like that to Blue, one of the most important people in his life, was agonizing. Her comment about Lance and Alejandro being the same person abruptly reminded him of the time-travellers’ odd reaction to the choice of nicknames he’d given them. Why was that? He’d have to ask them next time he saw them.

 

The blue paladin was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn’t see the mice scurrying down the corridor until he nearly stepped on them, drawing an offended squeak from Chulatt. “Sorry!” He exclaimed, moving out of their way. A flash of bright magenta in the container they were carrying caught his attention. Hunk’s mango tarts? Curious, he followed at a distance as the mice scampered along with their burden. The bridge door opened for them and he pressed himself out of sight against the wall as he heard voices inside, the familiar glow of the star map projection spilling out through the opening.

 

“Who--oh. It’s just the mice.” Kurogane let out a sigh.

 

“What’s that they’re carrying?” A pause. “This for us? Thanks!” The sound of a container being opened, followed by a sharp intake of breath. “Holy _shit_ , Keith, look!”

 

“Is that…”

 

“Hunk’s mango tarts and peanut butter cookies? Pretty sure. Hunk always knew everybody’s favourites.” Alejandro’s voice cracked a bit, as though he were fighting back tears.

 

“What’s that paper on top?”

 

“Let me see…” A rustle of paper, a pause, and then a wet-sounding laugh. “‘Welcome home. Love, Hunk.’ Fuck…” Lance’s future self was audibly sniffling now.

 

“Oh geez, Lance, c’mere.” Kurogane’s voice was soft and concerned, and a moment later the sound of crying became muffled as though by fabric and Lance could hear Kurogane murmuring soothingly for his partner to just let it all out.

 

It took several minutes of muffled tears before Lance heard Alejandro speak again. “Sorry…’s just...hard. They’re them but they’re _not_ , y’know?” Kurogane must have nodded, because he continued. “They haven’t _lost_ anything yet, they still have hope and look at new worlds like they’re the coolest thing they’ve ever seen. But they’re still...that note. Hunk would have written a note like that any day of his life, right up ‘til the day he died. That never changed.”

 

“Well, he is Yellow.”

 

A shaky laugh. “Yeah. I know. Understanding. It’s just...weird. I keep having to remind myself that they don’t _remember_. And I know that’s a good thing, but it still hurts that I remember them but they don’t remember me. The battles, the pain, the good times in between. This Hunk never spent days helping me plan how to ask you out. This Shiro never spent weeks helping me learn to use my prosthetics. This Pidge never had me help her make sleep-learning recordings for Spanish so I’d still have people to speak it with.” A long, shaky breath. “This Allura never spent months helping me improve my close-combat skills and then laughed when I finally beat her. This Coran never helped me learn to thank Allura in Altean and then tricked me by teaching me a sentence that was actually an insult.”

 

Out in the hallway, Lance’s heart ached. They’d been so focused on the dangers to themselves that the time-travellers had warned them about, trying to deal with the revelation that thing would end in despair if they weren’t careful, that they’d forgotten that the time-travellers themselves were people too. They’d come back here, forced to look the ghosts of their dead family, ghosts who didn’t even remember the time they’d spent together, in the face in order to protect them. Kurogane and Alejandro were putting themselves through emotional agony in order to save the lives of those they cared about, for the sake of their duty as paladins.

 

“And then there’s Blue...I dunno if it’s because I still had an active lion-bond when we came back, or if it’s because it was Blue that we used to come back, but...I can still sense her presence. I know she’s there but I can’t feel her and it _hurts._ Somehow that’s the worst part. I felt her die and now she’s right there but she isn’t my Blue and it hurts so fucking much.”

 

Lance frowned, a grim determination filling him. He couldn’t change the fact that his team wasn’t the team his future self remembered, couldn’t fill in the memories of the years between them, but this, maybe this was something he could do something about. Pushing away from the wall, he strode down the corridor towards the hangar. He would talk to Blue. Maybe, just maybe, there was enough of her to share between two Lance’s. He could give his battered, broken future counterpart that much back.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for a panic attack in the last section of this chapter, the two blocks of text immediately after the italics end.
> 
> Also, the original alien characters tag finally comes into play in this chapter! The H'ress are my own invention, and if anyone wants to know more about them, just hit me up on my tumblr for this fic, vldaspect.

Coran had been many things over the course of his life; a mechanic, a soldier, a doctor, an advisor, a teacher, a lover, among others. Even now, he made use of many of the skills he had learned in those roles as he protected and guided the Princess and her Paladins, helping in whatever ways he could in their desperate struggle. But the one talent he had been most careful to cultivate, and which had saved his life and others on many occasions, was a seventh sense for when an otherwise normal situation was about to go completely off the flight path.

 

That was why, in the middle of telling a story over dinner to an amused group of paladins, he stopped mid-syllable as his head whipped around in the direction of the unmanned bridge. Half a tick later, he was up and moving even before the proximity warning began to scream an alert overhead, charging down the hallways with the ease of an old star sailor even as the Castle shook under his feet.

 

The bridge doors slid open to reveal his fears confirmed, the sickly purple portal of a Druid wormhole in the process of disgorging a third Galra battlecruiser to join the two already firing on the Castle. The automatic defenses were already flashing warnings on the screens as he lunged for his station to bring up the full particle barrier, shouting into the ship’s intercoms “all paladins to lions! We’re under attack!”

 

He breathed a small sigh of relief at the sight of Red shooting past the window, the others not far behind. The pilots must have gone straight for the hangars. His relief was short-lived, however, as the battlecruisers unloaded their fighters into the space around them, the small craft engaging the Lions and leaving the larger vessels free to hammer the Castle.

 

“Alejandro, Kurogane, take command of the armaments! Coran, barrier status!” 

 

“78% and falling, princess!” Coran hadn’t heard her come in, but was more than happy to transfer control of the ship’s offensive weaponry to the red and blue stations.

 

Even as the Castle’s turrets opened fire and began targeting the weapons mounted on the opposing vessels, the older Altean could tell it wasn’t going to be enough. They were vastly outnumbered and outgunned, the Lions unable to form Voltron as long as the galra fighters were able to keep them apart and the particle barrier rapidly losing strength. They were cut off from any avenue of escape. Coran cast a despairing glance behind him at the grim faces of the two time-travellers. Had their efforts been for nothing?

 

A new siren cut through the din of alarms, dragging his attention back to the battle. “Princess! Castle’s sensors detect another wormhole forming behind us!” He called despairingly, expanding the holoscreen to view that area of space as a feeling of dread filled him.

 

For a moment, nothing was visible, then in an instant a wide portal flared open. Coran had only an instant to take in the fact that this one was Altean blue rather than Druid purple before the snout of a massive ship poked through, not Galran purple-grey but navy blue and flecked with painted stars. At his station Alejandro took his hands off the controls just long enough to throw his hands up in a whoop of joy.

 

“Shiiar’keh! My man!  _ H’ress’wr! _ ” He roared the last word, Kurogane echoing him with a delighted snarl. 

 

As though the occupants had heard them, a fleet of mis-matched fighters spilled out of the edges of the portal around the main ship in a spectacular feat of flying that took the Galra completely off-guard as they sped past the beleaguered Castle of Lions to tear into the attackers. The portal snapped closed behind the newcomers and Coran could only watch in astonished relief that he heard echoed over the coms as the reinforcements cleared the way for the paladins to form Voltron and make short work of the three Galra battlecruisers. Soon there was nothing left of the enemy but scattered debris and their allies were disappearing into the hangars of the other ship. Only then did the Altean relax his white-knuckled grip on the edge of the console.

 

Touching a key on the console, he hailed the Lions, looking over the paladins for any sign of injury as soon as their faces appeared on the screens and thankfully finding none. “Are all of you alright?”

 

“All okay here, Coran. We’re on our way back to the Castle now.” Shiro looked equally relieved to see him, with Allura, Alejandro, and Kurogane visible in the background. “Who are those guys?”

 

The older man looked over his shoulder at the two men who had moved closer to the portion of the screen that still showed the star-patterned vessel. Kurogane’s arm was looped around his partner’s back while Alejandro pointed at first one small fighter and then another, chattering excitedly. “I suspect these are the allies our new friends contacted this morning. I was under the impression it would likely be a few days before we heard from them, but lucky for us they showed up when they did!”

 

“No kidding, I thought we were goners!” Lance was grinning, but still looked a little wild-eyed.

 

Keith rolled his eyes. “Maybe you would’ve been, cargo pilot. The rest of us were doing fine.”

 

“Ex _ cuse _ me!” The blue paladin scowled, refocusing his attention at the insult. “Whose left hind thruster is smoking? Because it sure as hell isn’t Blue’s!”

 

“Paladins, if you could join us up here once you’ve landed, I expect we’ll be hearing from the other ship shortly.” Allura cut in before the fight could go any further, to the obvious relief of the other three pilots, looking a little shaken herself from the intensity of the brief fight. “Coran, damage report, please.”

 

Coran nodded, turning his attention to the Castle’s systems. Now that he knew his makeshift family was safe, the ship was the next priority. Thankfully the timely arrival had come before the particle barrier could fall completely, and damage appeared to be minimal. He catalogued the more serious items on a datapad for later attention and turned to welcome the young pilots as they arrived on deck.

 

“So, that’s the Icebringers you mentioned?” Hunk asked Kurogane, tucking his helmet under his arm as he stared in awe at the massive ship, only visible against the backdrop of distant stars by the bright lights of its open hangars.

 

“Some of them, yes. That ship is the Long Wind. We...spent a lot of time there.” There was a sadness to the traveller’s smile that told Coran there was much being left unsaid about the nature of their stay aboard the other vessel. Although the two had been aboard the ship for less than a day, he had already noticed a tendency to evade disclosing many details about the events of their timeline, though whether for their own sakes or that of the younger paladins, he couldn’t be sure. Likely some of the others had noticed as well, and sure enough the green paladin was already opening her mouth to ask a question when the communications panel beeped an incoming transmission, cutting her off and bringing an expression of annoyance to her face.

 

At Allura’s nod he put the call through to the main screen, then stared. It was one thing to be told that you were not, as you had believed, one of the last of your species. It was quite another to come face-to-face just hours later, with an unfamiliar Altean, smiling broadly enough to stretch his forest green eye marks and ears flared in greeting.

 

“Greetings and good trading! Everyone alright over there? We scrambled the Hunters as soon as we realized you were under attack.”

 

Allura looked as stunned as Coran felt, and it took her a moment to collect herself. “Yes, we’re all fine, thanks to your timely assistance.” She bowed deeply. “You have our deepest gratitude, ah…”

 

“Communications specialist Avenol, at your service. I’ll pass on your thanks to the Hunters that flew today, lady…”

 

“Allura. Princess Allura of Altea. These are my advisor, Coran, the paladins of Voltron, and Kurogane and Alejandro.” She gestured to each in turn, hesitating slightly as she tried to put a title to the time-travellers before giving up and using their nicknames instead.

 

Avenol’s eyebrows shot up nearly to his slate blue hairline. “The lost princess? My mother used to tell me stories about you and the Last King when I was little. We’d heard rumors that Voltron was getting around by teleduv, so we knew there had to be an Altean on board, but we figured it was just a descendent of someone who escaped the fall.” The garrulous Altean looked as though he would have continued rambling indefinitely, much to Allura’s obvious embarrassment and the amusement of the humans, but a muffled snarl was audible in the background and he promptly looked chagrined. “Right, right.” He straightened and puffed out his chest a little, trying and failing to look serious and official in a way that had Coran hiding his laughter behind a diagnostic screen. “Pack leader Shiiar’keh would like to invite you aboard the Long Wind to discuss a formal Pack alliance between the Icebringers and their allies and the Voltron Alliance.”

 

Coran blinked and looked over at Kurogane and Alejandro, who didn’t share the looks of surprise visible on the faces of the others, merely having relaxed, pleased expressions instead. Obviously they had known that the Icebringers would bring the interests of their existing allies to the table, dramatically boosting the size and strength of the Voltron Alliance if all went well. He frowned, a thought prodding at the back of his mind. The two time-travellers may have known their versions of the inhabitants of this ship and its allies, but here and now these two group were strangers. “If I may,” he interrupted, stepping forward, “I have to know, why are you so willing to ally with us?”

 

Avenol smiled, but there was no humor in it now. “Your message to us came by way of Sh’ra H’ressnor. As far as could be determined, no one on your vessel should have been aware of its existence, let alone its location, so you can imagine there was some alarm when it arrived there.” Kurogane’s face showed a mix of dismay and chagrin at this revelation. “However, the one who sent the message on your behalf also mentioned knowledge gained through the final aspect of blue quintessence, which is presumably how you obtained that information.” The other Altean pinned them all with a grim stare. “In the words of Pack Leader Shiiar’keh, clearly we have  _ much _ to discuss.”

 

_________

 

_ Why, _ Pidge wondered irritably as she craned her neck to look up at the Pack Leader of the Long Wind,  _ are all the aliens we meet so fucking big? _

 

As they had travelled over to the other ship in one of the Castle’s pods, Kurogane and Alejandro had pointedly ignored her questions about what the hell Avenol had meant by ‘final aspect of blue quintessence’ and what that had to do with their time-travelling, in favor of a brief crash-course on the critical elements of interacting with H’ress so as not to mortally offend their new allies. Don’t lie, don’t brag, but speak up if you think you or someone else has something to contribute, and for quiznak’s sake don’t lump all Galra in the with evil leaders of the Empire _ , Allura _ , which seemed a bit of a non-sequiter relative to the other rules, but hey, these two were the ones who had worked with H’ress before.

 

And that was all very helpful to know from an intellectual and diplomatic standpoint, but right now the primitive screaming monkey part of Pidge’s brain would have appreciated a little warning in regards to the fact that a H’ress was a six-limbed, four-eyed, sharp-clawed, pack-hunting carnivore roughly the size of a horse. She was never going to be scared of any mere Galra ever again.

 

While Allura and Shiiar’keh exchanged formal greetings, Pidge pulled her gaze away from the twelve intimidatingly large claws that were right at eye-level and let her eyes wander around the hangar they were standing in. The Castle’s pod was parked at one end of a neat row of small fighter craft that came in nearly as wide an assortment of sizes, shapes, and designs as the aliens servicing the craft after the earlier skirmish. The scene was one of well-organized chaos, group and individuals moving this way and that with tools or parts and yelling to each other across the floor. Even with all the industry, however, she could see many people looking curiously at the group of seven armored Paladins and one strange Altean. Shiiar’keh was clearly aware of the attention, and sighed once introductions were completed.

 

“If I may, we should continue this discussion somewhere with fewer curious eyes and ears and less noise. Follow me, please.” The alien turned to lead them out of the hangar, affording them a clear view of the complex patterns dyed into the blue-white fur of their back. Kurogane and Alejandro followed immediately, obviously relaxed and comfortable, and with a quick glance at Shiro and Allura for confirmation, the others followed.

 

“How many different species of aliens are there here?” Lance asked curiously, looking around. If the hangar had been busy, the corridors were downright chaotic, beings of all sorts moving this way and that, some even flying overhead in the high-ceilinged passages or traversing conduits and vents high on the walls. If it wasn’t for the fact that the ship was obviously of H’ress design and therefore massive in proportion to the smaller Humans, it would have been claustrophobic.

 

“On the Long Wind? A few twelves of twelves.” A sharp turn to the right revealed a transparent wall on one side of the new hallway, the space beyond filled with water and water-dwelling species. Lance’s eyes lit up with delight at the view, much to the amusement of the rest of the group, and Alejandro gave him a knowing grin. Hunk elbowed the blue paladin playfully, gesturing to one of the aliens in the water, and whispered something that sounded like ‘Plaxum’, making the teen blush and push his friend away. “In the entire Icebringer fleet, however, nearly every sentient species in the known universe is represented, although many only by a few individuals.”

 

“Even Galra?” Keith sounded surprised, and almost hopeful. Confused by his tone, Pidge followed the Korean teen’s gaze and saw a group of children, some of them Galra, running by with the gleeful shrieks of mischief-making youngsters everywhere. A harried-looking teenage Galra sprinted after them, hurling warnings of dire punishments if they didn’t get back to the nursery on the double.

 

“I told you the code on the nursery door was too easy, Kalme!” Shiiar’keh called after the rapidly-disappearing figure, shaking their head in mock despair as the Galra flicked their tail at the H’ress in a gesture that made Allura’s cheeks redden. “And yes, there are many Galra among the packs.” Dark eyes refocused on Keith, then moved to Allura. “You would be surprised how many of the Empire’s people are disenchanted with the current system for one reason or another. They simply lack the means to make a stand, or end up imprisoned or killed for their troubles if they do.” Ah. So that was why they’d been warned not to lump all Galra in with the Empire.

 

Keith hummed thoughtfully at that as the alien guided them through a doorway and into a small lounge area much like the ones on the Castle. They settled themself onto a low cushioned platform that reminded the green paladin of the stereotypical ‘shrink’s couch’ that only appeared in cartoons, gesturing for the visitors to make themselves comfortable. After a moment’s thought the group arranged themselves on a long, V-shaped couch across from the alien. Only once all were settled did Shiiar’keh speak again.

 

“Now…” Four pitch black eyes focused their attention on Kurogane, the alien crossing their forelimbs thoughtfully in front of them on the couch. “You said you used the last aspect of blue quintessence and gained information important to our cause. Being familiar with the aspects myself, I cannot imagine you have good news if that is how it was gained.” They tilted their head curiously, inviting the time-traveller to speak.

 

Before he could, however, Pidge saw an opening and shot to her feet in irritation. “Okay, look, what the hell is this ‘aspect’ stuff you guys keep mentioning, and what’s blue quintessence got to do with all this? These two,” she waved her arm at the startled older males, “keep changing the subject whenever I ask. I mean, clearly it’s important, and has something to do with how they got here, so why won’t you just tell us?!” She directed this last question right to the pair, scowling furiously. If there was one thing she hated, it was having information withheld from her, and for all their openness about what needed to be avoided, these two were being downright evasive about a lot of things and it was starting to piss her the hell off.

 

Kurogane and Alejandro exchanged nervous looks before glancing at Shiiar’keh, who nodded and waved a hand for them to go ahead. Kurogane cleared his throat, fidgeting with his gloves for a moment to gather his thoughts. Pidge stared him down, unwilling to settle without an answer. “Alright, so, I don’t think either of us could explain this as well as a quintessence trainer, but I can try to give you the basics and you can all talk to one of them later?” He looked over at the H’ress, who chuckled.

 

“You requested quintessence training, so naturally they will need to speak with one.”

 

Kurogane relaxed a little, nodding. “Fine. The basics, though.” He looked back at the other paladins, who were regarding him with open curiosity. Even Allura looked attentive, but then, the princess had had almost no training in manipulating quintessence beyond what was necessary to operate the Castle-ship, so perhaps this was news to her as well. Pidge crossed her arms, tapping her toes impatiently, and the scarred man chuckled, giving her a fond look.

 

“Well, you know there’s five colours of quintessence, right? Black, yellow, green, blue, and red. One Lion for each.” At her nod, he continued. “Each one has several...traits, I guess? Associated with it. These traits are grouped, one per colour, into categories called aspects. For example, the first aspect is the natural element. Black is sky, yellow is earth, green is forest, blue is water, and red is fire. Make sense?”

 

“Yeah, with you so far.” She glanced over at the others, who were all making small sounds of agreement or understanding. Allura hadn’t mentioned any of this, and she wondered whether that was simply oversight on the part of the Altean, or if she simply didn’t know. The woman’s curious expression suggested the latter.

 

“I won’t get into all the different ones and what they mean because it’s complicated and I don’t actually know all of them, but the last aspect, the one we keep talking about, is the metaphysical element. All you need to know is it’s dangerous as hell for everyone, involved or not, and if it hadn’t been literally the fate of the universe at stake, with absolutely no other options left, we never would have tried to access it to come here. The fact that we did, hell, the fact that we even know about the last aspect and what it can do at all, is enough to tell anyone who knows about that stuff that something went really, really wrong in the future.” He ran a hand through his hair with a tired sigh. “Is that enough for you for now?”

 

Pidge blinked, digesting this information. It still left her with a lot of questions, but it was a start, and they’d been promised more details later from someone more knowledgeable. Finally she sat back down on the couch between Lance and Hunk, who also looked as though they were fighting the urge to pester the man with more questions. “Yeah, I guess so. But I expect a long talk with this quintessence trainer person later. Carry on.” She made a shooing motion at Kurogane, who raised an eyebrow before shooting an apologetic look at Shiiar’keh, who merely gave a rumble of laughter and murmured something that sounded like “green as the trees.”

 

“Anyway, like Kurogane said to Pidge, things went bad. Really bad.” Alejandro spoke up now, eyes flashing darkly. “The resistances were all wiped out, Voltron was destroyed, Zarkon, Lotor, and Haggar were all still in play, and the enemy had a planet-destroying weapon called the Weblum’s Breath on their side. By the end of it what was left of our side was running for our lives and being actively hunted down.” He took a deep breath, staring down at his hands. “With the threat of that weapon hanging over anyone who tried to resist, we couldn’t see any hope of future resistances forming. Ours would be the last, and Zarkon would rule unchallenged from then on. Which was why we made the decision to use the pure blue quintessence of the Blue Lion to come here and try to alter events in our favour. But we can’t do it alone.” He looked Shiiar’keh straight in the eyes and set his hands on the couch beside him, fingers splayed and nails digging into the couch in what looked to Pidge like a deliberate gesture. How much time had their future selves spent with these aliens to be able to use their body language? “We need your help.”

 

There was a pregnant pause as the resistance leader sitting opposite took in this information. They stroked their arm fur thoughtfully, head turning to consider each of the paladins in turn. Finally, they turned their head back toward the two worn, tired men who were all that was left of their efforts several years on. “What do you recommend we do to alter the universe’s trajectory?”

 

Alejandro’s shoulders sagged in relief for a moment--had he been worried that they’d be turned away?--before he straightened again. “We already have the Blade of Marmora, a Galra-only resistance group, looking out for the Weblum’s Breath, and we’re allying ourselves with you cycles earlier than we did in the original timeline. Those two actions should already alter things significantly. What we need to do now is get this timeline’s paladins trained in using the aspects, and get Shiro’s arm replaced.” He nodded and made a prompting gesture to the Black Paladin, who nervously pulled off his glove to show the metal hand.

 

Shiiar’keh leaned forward to peer at the limb. “One of the witch’s so-called enhancements?” They questioned. At Shiro’s pained nod, they hummed thoughtfully. “The training I can understand, it will afford a significant advantage in battle, but why the prosthetic? Her enhancements, cruel though they are, usually confer some advantage in strength, speed, or enhancement of the senses.”

 

“There’s an override in it she can use to control him and force him to fight us against his will.” The man answered abruptly, voice sharp. Pidge couldn’t help but notice the way Kurogane wouldn’t look at Shiro, and the guilt on the former gladiator’s face at the implications. Were any of the time-traveller’s scars from his brother?

 

The H’ress looked surprised at the revelation, or at least she thought that was the expression on their face--four eyes and a broad muzzle were hard to read when you were used to Human and Altean features--but they nodded acceptance of it. “I can make arrangements for you all to start working with the Long Wind’s quintessence trainer tomorrow morning. The arm will take more time, as I will need to request the presence of those on other ships who have the most experience with the Druids’ work, Haggar’s in particular, and those who are best qualified to construct a replacement prosthetic. Only a few of those best suited for chasing this problem are on board the Long Wind. We should be ready to begin with that in a few rotations. Is there anything else?”

 

Kurogane shook his head. “No, I believe that’s everything. Thank you for your assistance.”

 

“There is no need for thanks. You were, will be, and are pack to us.  _ H’ressyan kaa, H’ress sh’ra _ . Aiding you aids us all.” The massive alien rose to their feet, turning to Allura. “You should return to your vessel, as it is late in the rotation. Tomorrow, when you return, bring the Lions with you. They will play a crucial role in your training. Your trainer will meet you in the hangar.”

 

Allura rose as well, bowing deeply. “It is an honor to be allied with your pack, Shiiar’keh.”

 

“And with yours, Princess Allura. Good hunting, Princess, Paladins. Someone should be just outside to guide you back to your pod. I must contact the rest of the fleet to share news of our alliance and request the presence of the specialists you need.”

 

With a chorus of “Good hunting” at Kurogane and Alejandro’s prompting, the group filed out. The lanky young Galra from earlier, Kalme, was waiting outside, leaning against the wall.

 

Pidge smirked, pushing her glasses up her nose as she peered up at the alien. “Did you manage to get the kids back, or did they escape?” Kalme scowled and stalked off in the direction of the hangar without answering, tail swishing and ears laid back in obvious annoyance at the reminder.

 

“I think that’s a no.” Hunk stage-whispered to her, prompting a chorus of laughter.

 

________

 

_ Everything is purple. _

 

_ The deepest, darkest not-quite-indigo of the open void between the stars, tinted just this side of black by the light of suns too far away to be seen. _

 

_ The ugly mauve metal of Galra ships, so many, too many, keeping between him and his objective no matter how many he destroys. _

 

_ The searing lilac of the massive energy blast bursting from the maw of the massive new ship the others have been protecting, flaring brilliantly and painting the inside of his cockpit with the colour even through his viewscreen. _

 

_ And the incandescent near-ultraviolet of the atmosphere of the planet below them as it ionizes violently, a wave of burning death sweeping across seas and continents even as the energy blast continues its relentless path, tearing a hole through the blackened, rocky surface of a sphere once painted in greens and blues and browns. _

 

_ Someone is screaming, an animal wail of gut-wrenching grief and despair. It takes him minutes to realize that someone is him. _

 

_ Abruptly, the damage reaches a tipping point, and the world shatters, cracking like an egg spilled from a mishandled carton. Pieces tear away, smashing against each other, breaking smaller. Glittering flecks between are all that are left of the oceans, now massive chunks of ice in the cold void of space. Stone and ice, all that’s left of a world that only minutes earlier was an oasis of life in the harsh universe. _

 

_ Distantly, he’s aware that the others are frozen as motionless as he, their Lions hanging still in space. It would be child’s play right now for the Galra to tear them apart where they sit. But they don’t. They’ve done what they came to do, sent a message to all who live inside their borders and out. ‘This is the price of defiance.’ _

 

_ The Galra are leaving now, their ships vanishing one by one through the grape-coloured portals of the druids. Leaving the Paladins hanging in space over the ruins of Earth. _

 

_ He doesn’t think he’s ever hated anything as much as he hates the colour purple at this moment. _

 

Lance jolted upright with a strangled scream. Chest heaving, he looked around wildly.

 

The darkness of his bedroom on the Castle of Lions surrounded him, lit only by a shard of Balmeran crystal gifted to him by Shay after he had admitted to not being terribly fond of the dark. No cockpit, no Galra, no broken remnants of his home. Trembling, he brought his knees up to his chest and buried his hands in his hair, trying to steady his breathing. In. Hold. Out. Again. Slowly, slowly, the ache in his chest lessened, although his heart still pounded a frantic rhythm between his ribs. “Just a dream...just a dream…”

 

As the panic attack began to subside, he became aware of the worried touch of Blue in the back of his mind, the Lion sending a soothing purr and waves of comfort and reassurance through their bond. Gratefully he reached back through the link, letting his energy twine with hers and feeling her own worry at his lingering fear. He got the impression from her that she’d been one more minute of hyperventilation away from tearing a path straight through the Castle to get to him, structural integrity be damned.

 

The mental image drew an unpleasant comparison in his mind to the destructive beam of energy in the dream, and any amusement he might have felt was wiped away in an instant. Feeling his distress, she sent him a rumble of questioning concern about what had scared him so badly. 

 

“Just a bad dream, Blue.” He whispered aloud, his voice hoarse. He must have been screaming in his sleep, and felt a surge of gratitude for alien sound-proofing. “Too much talk about everything that could happen if we screw this up, giving me nightmares. I’ll be fine.”

 

The reassurance sounded hollow even to his own ears, and the thought of trying to go back to sleep was almost nauseating. A glance at the clock told him that while it was still quite a bit earlier than he needed to be up, it was late enough that he would only miss a couple hours of sleep if he chose not to try. “Early breakfast it is.” He muttered, swinging his long legs out of the bed. He’d just have to make up the lost sleep tonight instead.


	4. Chapter 4

The rattle of dishes in the dining room startled Keith in the middle of a yawn. Usually he was the first one awake, except for Shiro some days, but the Black Paladin usually preferred training or meditation to food when he was up this early. And while Pidge was prone to all-nighters, she rarely emerged from her nest of electronics in the green lion’s hangar unless someone dragged her. Wondering who else on the Castle’s short list of inhabitants could possibly be up at this hour, the teen quickened his pace down the hall and silently pushed open the door.

 

Lance was probably the last person he expected to find on the other side, much less surrounded by a quantity of storage containers, empty except for crumbs of Hunk’s baking, that suggested he’d been there for some time. The Cuban was staring down at his plate with a morose, anxious expression that looked out of place on features that usually held some sort of smile, poking and prodding a thick aquamarine pastry on a plate in front of him. One injudicious push caused the pastry to burst, eggplant-coloured filling spurting out the side, and Lance’s expression twisted briefly into an odd mix of nausea and something else before he abruptly shoved the plate away from himself, propping his elbows on the table in the empty space and tangling his hands in his hair with a deep sigh.

 

Keith frowned, Lance’s miserable mien surprising him with how much it bothered him, and considered his options. Option one, distraction, would normally be his go-to course of action when the blue paladin was out of sorts, but somehow, here in the early hours of the morning with no one awake except the two of them, it didn’t feel quite right. Option two, leave before the other noticed him, was out of the question. Option three it was. What would Shiro do? Stepping closer, he rested his hand gently on Lance’s shoulder. “Hey, you okay?”

 

Or at least, that was what he intended to say, except that the unexpected touch startled the blue paladin into an ungodly shriek and flailing of limbs, one of which smacked Keith squarely in the face and made him stumble back clutching his nose, so what actually came out of his mouth was “He-- _ ow! What the fuck?! _ ”

 

Whipping around in his seat and clutching his heaving chest, Lance stared at him wide-eyed. “Quiznacking hell, Keith, don’t sneak up on me like that! You scared the shit out of me!” He cried, voice still high with fright.

 

“I was just trying to ask if you were okay!” Keith yelled back. Holy fuck, his nose hurt, was he bleed--yup, he was bleeding, he confirmed as he pulled one hand away from his face to check. He hadn’t known the scrawny teen was capable of hitting that hard.

 

“Oh geez, fuck, you’re bleeding.” Lance realized, looking horrified. Casting about himself he came up with a handful of fancy cloth napkins and scrambled to his feet to press them carefully to Keith’s face, examining the damage with surprisingly gentle hands as the other, too startled to resist, stood stock still in surprise. “I don’t think it’s broken, at least, but I think your eye is starting to bruise.” He said softly, grimacing guiltily. “Sorry.”

 

“I startled you.” Keith felt obliged to point out, his words muffled by the wad of cloth pressing around his nose.

 

“And I flailed around like a dumbass and punched you in the face.” The Cuban shot back. “Anything else blindingly obvious you feel like pointing out?” Lance was glaring now, posture defensive.

 

“No, I just...I meant it wasn’t your fault.” He stammered awkwardly. He’d been trying  _ not _ to start a fight with the other paladin, dammit. “Like you said, I snuck up on you.”

 

“Oh.” The blue paladin deflated a bit. “Yeah, I just...wasn’t expecting anyone to come in so soon.” He glanced over at the stack of empty containers, cheeks reddening. “I should’ve remembered you’re an early riser.”

 

Keith nodded. “Is everything okay?” He asked hesitantly. “You’re never up this early, and you looked upset.” He carefully didn’t mention the shadows under the blue eyes, visible now that they were in closer proximity.

 

Lance looked away again. “...Bad dream.” He admitted finally. “I’ll be fine.” With an abrupt shift away from the uncomfortable topic, he carefully peeled the blood-soaked napkin away from Keith’s nose, hissing sympathetically. “Yeah, you’re definitely gonna have a shiner or two. Guess all those extra training sessions paid off, huh?” He joked awkwardly. “At least the bleeding’s stopped. D’you wanna go jump in a pod for twenty minutes or something before Shiro sees?”

 

“Go jump in a pod before I see what?” Came a familiar voice from behind Keith.

 

Lance gave another shriek, stumbling back from the red paladin and pointing a shaking finger at the grinning figure behind him. “What  _ is it _ with people and trying to give me heart attacks today?! Dios! It’s not even breakfast time yet and I’ve got more adrenaline in my veins than blood! Geez!” He threw up his hands in exasperation, unfortunately forgetting that one of them still held a wad of bloody fabric.

 

The red streaks caught Shiro’s eye immediately, and he stepped forward to grab them for a closer look. After a moment he looked up again at Lance, then over at Keith, who could still feel dried blood under his nose and the soreness of bruises forming, his cheeks reddening under the older man’s scrutiny. “...Do I want to know?” Shiro asked cautiously, raising an eyebrow and fixing the younger with a concerned stare.

 

“It’s fine, Shiro.” Keith waved it off, giving his pseudo-brother an easy smile. “I startled him and he decked me by accident. Good thing you weren’t in range or we’d both end up looking like raccoons.”

 

He could feel Shiro’s eyes looking him over, weighing his statement for honesty like he used to back at the Garrison whenever Keith would come back with bruised knuckles and split lips, before the black paladin laughed. “Guess so. I always told you your cat-footedness would bite you in the ass one day. Maybe we should put a bell on you, just in case the next person you sneak up on has a bayard in their hands.”

 

“Keep your kinky shit away from the breakfast table.” Pidge groused as she arrived just in time to hear the last part of Shiro’s comment. She threw herself into a chair, propping her elbows on the table as a yawning Hunk sank into the seat beside her. “So, who’s excited to learn all about quintessence today?” She asked, unable to keep the excitement out of her tone as she reached with both hands for the carafe of liquid stimulant that served as coffee, despite tasting like an odd mix of lemons and toffee.

 

Lance groaned, flopping back into his seat. “I’m really hoping it’ll be more hands-on, but with my luck we’ll get lectured for hours. Heck, with my luck our teacher will be Iverson all over again.”

 

There was a chorus of groans around the table at the thought as Keith helped Shiro pass out bowls of goo and set out more boxes of Hunk’s pastries. Snagging a couple of croissants for himself, the red paladin tucked into his food. “They said to bring the Lions, so there’ll be probably be something besides theory.” He commented between bites.

 

“That’s true.” Hunk nodded, looking more awake now that he had food and stimulant in front of him. The yellow paladin crumbled bits of something black and flaky into his goo, looking thoughtful. “What I don’t get is how they expect us to manipulate quintessence. As far as we know, Humans can’t. They can’t possibly have mistaken us for Alteans, can they?”

 

Lance snorted. “No way in hell. Not with that many on board their ship.”

 

Shiro hummed in agreement, taking a large bite of a fruit tart, one of Hunk’s more recent recipes. “Alejandro and Kurogane are the ones who said we needed the training, so we must be able to.” He commented around a mouthful of berries. “Presumably something they’ve already learned.”

 

“Maybe it’s a Paladin thing?” Pidge suggested as she refilled her mug with stimulant. “Hence the Lions?”

 

“Find out when we get there, I guess.” Keith shrugged. He could hear Red rumbling excitedly in the back of his head, and a sense of impatience that had him unconsciously hurrying his eating. He noticed the others doing the same, their own Lions obviously as eager as his own. Obviously as far as the Lions were concerned, this training was a good thing, and he felt any apprehension dissolving.

 

Soon enough everyone’s plates were empty, the dishes washed, and the remaining baked goods returned to the storage room for later, Shiro giving them all an excited smile that made him look five years younger and was a welcome change from the anxiety he’d been showing the day before after the revelation concerning his arm. “Everyone suit up and be in your Lions in ten. Let’s get training.”

 

__________

 

Shiro was not surprised to find Allura waiting for him when he arrived at the Black Lion’s hangar, dressed in her flight suit with her hair tied neatly up in a braided bun at the back of her head and staring up at the massive machine with an unreadable expression. What did surprise him was the shadows under her eyes and the way she adjusted and readjusted her wrist guards and gloves, anxious tells that she still kept hidden from her paladins more often than not. He cleared his throat as he stepped towards her, and was glad he’d announced his entrance when she visibly jumped and whirled towards him. Then again, he shouldn’t be surprised everyone was on edge and jumpy after the events of yesterday. How else were you supposed to feel when older versions of two of your teammates suddenly appeared with the news that the war you were fighting would be lost disastrously unless you changed the right things?

 

“You holding up alright, Princess?” he asked softly, inclining his head slightly toward her still-fidgeting hands as Black rumbled a greeting to him. He could feel the Lion nudging his own worries with concern and sent back a mental brush of reassurance. Forewarned was forearmed, no pun intended.

 

“Of course.” Allura said stiffly, abruptly pushing her hands down to her sides and staring resolutely up at the giant machine. “Why would I not be?”

 

“Oh, I don’t know…” Shiro reached up to rest a hand on his Lion’s muzzle as she dropped her head to extend her ramp. “Maybe because two days ago we thought we were on the verge of winning this war and then yesterday it turns out we were squarely on the path to losing it?”

 

Allura’s head whipped toward him again, eyes wide with surprise, before she deflated with a weak laugh. “That’s a very...blunt...way of stating it, I suppose.”

 

He snorted, gesturing for her to precede him up the ramp. “Three months until Lotor’s ready to come after us. We don’t have time to dance around the issue.”

 

“No, I suppose we don’t.” She admitted, striding into the airlock with an easy grace. “Lotor, Haggar, Zarkon...How can we hope to stop all of them? It took a massive commitment of resources just to incapacitate one of them, and even then we took many casualties.”

 

“I’m sure our time travelling duo has some ideas.”

 

“How can you be so certain?” She stopped, glancing back at him. “They’ve been exceedingly tight-lipped about most of their history between now and when they came from. While I realize that may be simply because they don’t wish to discuss painful topics, there may be some critical information that they’re hiding that could mean the difference between success and failure. How can we hope to bring down the Empire without knowing more about what our enemies are capable of?”

 

The black paladin stopped short, staring at the Princess in confusion. “You...think they don’t want us to succeed?” He asked hesitantly, trying to follow her line of thinking. He knew that as a diplomat she was used to trying to spot ulterior motives and never taking things at face value, but this…

 

“No, I know that our success is what they desire. There’s no mistaking that.” She clarified quickly, pursing her lips as she continued on into the Black Lion’s cockpit to rest her hands on the back of the control chair. “I am merely concerned that they may not have any better idea than we do about how to achieve it, but don’t want to admit to that fact.”

 

“Is that all.” He blinked, following her and settling into his chair in front of the controls. “I thought that much was already obvious.”

 

“You...what?” Shiro grinned, hearing the usually unflappable Altean floundering in confusion. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

 

“Because like I said, it was obvious? To other Humans, anyway.” He explained, powering up Black and feeling her rumble and stretch physically and mentally. “If they had a solid plan in mind they would have told us straight up. Instead they’re trying to give us anything they know will provide an advantage, and warning us about the major pitfalls we need to avoid. Granted you had a good point about how something they aren’t telling us could be crucial, but it’s not malicious and we can bring it up with them at a later date.”

 

There was a protracted silence, and he didn’t need to look over his shoulder to know that the Princess’s markings were glowing bright with embarrassment. “...I see. An Altean would have explicitly stated that their only intent was to provide information rather than strategy. I shall have to remember the difference.”

 

He gave an apologetic chuckle as Black’s boosters roared to life, launching them out of the hangar to join Red, who had just emerged. “Cultural differences strike again. In your defense, though, your diplomatic training didn’t cover Humans. For now let’s just worry about making the most of the advantages those two are trying to give us, shall we? And we can figure out how to make use of those advantages once we know exactly what they are. Kurogane didn’t explain much about these aspects of quintessence, but they sound important.”

 

Allura frowned, drumming her finger on the headrest of his chair as the Green and Yellow Lions joined them in hovering beside the Castle of Lions. “I believe so. I know they have to do with manipulation of quintessence, but unfortunately that was a subject that was not a priority in my training, given my position as Princess. I was taught enough to operate the Castle, communicate with the Lions, and participate in certain key ceremonies, but beyond that my education was focused on culture and diplomacy.”

 

“That’s still more training than any of us have had.” Shiro reassured her as Blue finally emerged, taking her place in the formation around the Black Lion. “You’ll do fine.” Pushing the control levers forward he sent Black arrowing through space toward the Long Wind, almost invisible against the background of stars except for the warm yellow glow of an open hangar door waiting for them.

 

_____________

 

Hunk shifted nervously and felt Yellow brush his mind reassuringly. The heavily-armored Lion stood just behind where he sat cross-legged on the floor of the hangar, a different one than they’d been in yesterday. This one was empty and smaller, with just enough space for the five Lions to stand in a loose circle around the group in the center. The five paladins, Allura, and their teacher, an older Altean who introduced himself as Malrento, were seated in a smaller circle between the Lions, with Alejandro and Kurogane off to one side and behind Malrento.

 

“Now then.” The alien eyed them sternly, making Hunk gulp anxiously. “Before we begin, I need to know exactly what I am dealing with in terms of knowledge, ability, and prior training.”

 

Allura spoke up first, looking as nervous as the yellow paladin felt, but he supposed even Princesses got back-to-school jitters. “I am mostly trained in manipulating my own quintessence, and have sufficient strength to operate a standard teleduv several times in a few vargas. I learned half a cycle ago that I also have the necessary abilities of an  _ amvel nayeta _ , but I’m entirely untrained in that area. My knowledge of the colour theories is also minimal at best, especially where the Aspects are concerned.”

 

Malrento frowned, but nodded to Shiro to speak on behalf of the Paladins. The Black Paladin sighed, scratching his chin thoughtfully. “We’re of a species that hasn’t discovered quintessence yet, so we don’t know much about it. Only what we’ve seen or been told since we got to space, such as Balmeras and teleduvs. It’s probably safest to start from basics for us.” His eyes flicked over to the two time-travellers. “I’m not aware of any natural ability we may or may not have.”

 

The Altean hummed thoughtfully before turning his attention to Alejandro and Kurogane. “And that is where you two come in. I understand you received some training before your...return?”

 

Hunk straightened, remembering that morning’s discussion, and further around the circle he saw Pidge doing the same. Even Lance, Keith, and Shiro seemed to perk up with curiosity.

 

Alejandro sighed frustratedly, scrubbing a hand back through his shoulder-length hair. “Honestly? Not much. By the time someone realized it was something we could do, we were too run ragged to sit down and learn, and there was a shortage of those qualified to train us.” He huffed softly. “We do know a few things. First, for us Humans, the Lion bond is definitely part of it because after Kurogane lost Red, he couldn’t do it anymore. Second, for Paladins, some of the aspects manifest as new abilities for the Lions and some only affect the Paladin. There may be a pattern there, I don’t know, we didn’t learn enough of them between us to have enough information there.”

 

“How do the aspects normally manifest for non-Paladins, then?” Pidge spoke up before Hunk could, the same question on the tip of his tongue. “And why is it different for Paladins?”

 

“Probably similar abilities, but given to the person instead of a machine.” Kurogane responded, then shrugged. “And no clue. Like I said, we had bigger problems.”

 

Hunk raised his hand slightly before speaking, and Alejandro nodded to him. “When you say new abilities, what do you mean? Like laser eyes or something?” He tried to picture himself lasering the Galra and grinned. That’d be one way to get the job done.

 

“Sort of. This’ll make more sense once Malrento explains the aspects, but the ones we managed to access were Blue’s combative characteristic, which gave her a whole bunch of maneuvering thrusters that made her crazy agile,” Lance’s face lit up at the thought, and Hunk could see him already imagining how versatile he’d be in battle, “Red’s personality trait, which let Keith teleport kind like the Druids do, and man did that make the Galra scared of him,” further around the circle, Keith was smirking delightedly at the idea, “and Green’s personality trait, which gave our Pidge the ability to do limited healing by touch.” Pidge looked startled, staring down at her hands in consternation. “And then there’s the natural element, which all of you have already used before at this point, if I remember right.”

 

“We have?” Hunk blurted, exchanging confused looks with his teammates and Allura. He was fairly sure he would have remembered doing something with quintessence manipulation before, or noticed if the others had. The others looked equally baffled, except for Pidge, whose expression was one of dawning realization.

 

Kurogane nodded, a small smile on his face. “You have. Fire, water, forest, earth, and sky. Red’s rail gun, Blue’s sonics, Green’s plant cannon, Yellow’s heavy armor, and Black’s phasing.”

 

Instantly everyone started talking over each other at once.

 

“I fucking  _ knew it! _ ”

 

“Phasing? When did I do that?”

 

“...Figures Keith would be the one who did it first.”

 

“The second time we fought Zarkon, I think. Remember how you took the black bayard from him when Black sideswiped him?”

 

“Allura, did the old paladins figure out any of this?”

 

“I...I don’t recall. I didn’t normally have the opportunity to see Voltron in combat. I’ll have to check the records when we return, perhaps my father left information…”

 

“Are all the aspects gonna give us cool upgrades like that?”

 

“...I guess you’re right. I didn’t even think about it until now, how I got the bayard from him…”

 

“Dude, he said their Keith could teleport and Pidge could heal. We’re gonna get  _ superpowers _ ”

 

“Hey, how come you didn’t mention any of my or Shiro’s upgrades?”

 

Hunk’s question seemed to cut through the excited chatter, bringing an abrupt silence as the others glanced at him and Shiro, then looked over at the older pair. They seemed caught off guard by the question, but Hunk felt a surge of guilt for even asking when he saw the raw, pained expression on Alejandro’s face, the way Kurogane seemed to close in on himself. He mentally kicked himself for not thinking before he spoke. “Nevermind, okay? We’ll find out soon enough, right? But we can’t do that without learning more about quintessence.” Turning physically to face Malrento, he set his face into a grim smile. “We’re ready to learn whatever you can tell us.”

 

The others slowly accepted his firm refocusing of the topic, although Pidge seemed reluctant to let the topic go, narrowing her eyes at a visibly relieved Alejandro before turning her attention back to the matter at hand. The older Altean smiled approvingly. “Well handled, Yellow Paladin. You are a credit to your quintessence.” Seeing Lance frown and open his mouth, the green-haired male held up a hand to forestall the question. “Patience, Blue Paladin. Make yourselves comfortable and we will begin with basic theory.”

 

There was a slight shuffling as a few people adjusted position, Lance letting his legs sprawl out in front of him, Shiro moving to sit on his knees, and Pidge pulling up her wrist computer to take notes. Allura shot Lance a disapproving look, which failed to have any effect, and sighed. “Whenever you’re ready, Malrento.”

 

“Very well.” The older man cleared his throat, looking around the circle. “Quintessence is the basic energy of life. It fills every living thing, as well as the world around us.” Hunk closed his eyes and listened carefully, trying to visualize what was being described. “There are five colours, as we interpret them, red, blue, green, yellow, and black. While the natural world tends to simply have quintessence that corresponds to its nature--green in plants, black in the air, and so on, intelligent beings most often have a mixture of colours corresponding to their own natures. A being with very red quintessence might tend toward aggression and impulsiveness,” Keith’s cheeks reddened as every eye went to him, “but someone with a mixture of blue and red could be aggressively protective of those they care about. While most individuals have quintessence that is a mixture of colours, the five of you are a rarity in that your energy is composed of one colour and one colour only.”

 

Pidge’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Is that why we were able to bond with the Lions to become Paladins?”

 

Malrento smiled, nodding approvingly. “That is correct. Each of you has the same colour of quintessence as your bonded Lion, without a trace or tint of another colour. If there was, you would not be compatible with them. Now, each colour has come to be associated with a number of characteristics, grouped into categories called aspects. The first, and most obvious is the natural element. Fire for Red, Water for Blue, Forest for Green, Earth for Yellow, and Sky or Void for Black. Then we have the combative characteristic, which denotes the way in which a person might go about dealing with difficulties in their life. Red goes where their instincts tell them, for better or for worse. Blue adapts to the new situation, rolls with the punches and comes up swinging. Green learns, attacking the problem from unexpected angles or the easiest route. Yellow plans and strategizes, choosing a solution and seeing it through. And Black makes use of every resource available to them, choosing the right ones for the task.”

 

As he spoke, Hunk considered each of his teammates. Acting on instinct instead of thinking was practically Keith summed up in three words where combat was concerned. And Lance was nothing if not adaptable, even if it tended to leave him accepting unpleasant situations rather than trying to change them. Learning was what Pidge did best, even if she didn’t seem to know how to give up sometimes. And Shiro, for all his youth, was a natural leader, although in Hunk’s opinion he still had a bad habit of preferring Keith or Pidge for missions simply because he knew them better.

 

“After that we have the physical analogue, the role each plays in a group. Red is blood, a sharer of energy. Yellow is bone, strong and supportive. Green is nerve, distributing information. Black is mind, a decision maker. And Blue is heart, holding everything together and giving the group life.”

 

That was pretty straightforward, and fit what Hunk had observed of his fellow paladins. Pidge and Shiro went without saying, and judging by their expressions they knew it too, nobody could get the rest of them fired up like Keith on a tear, and Lance seemed to have made it his personal mission to be the annoying older/younger brother to everyone in the Castle, pulling them out of their own heads and distracting them from their worries.

 

“The last group, the personality trait, consists of two groups. The emotional trait and the mental trait. These can be trickier to pin down because they can manifest in many different ways. It is also, in my experience, the most difficult aspect to learn to use, as it requires one to be aware of and in tune with those traits in ways you may not expect, and the emotional and mental traits must be in balance with each other. For Red, passion must be tempered by respect. For Blue, loyalty should be reigned in by trust. Green, courage balanced with curiosity. Yellow, patience limited with understanding. And for Black, love bolstered by will.”

 

There was a profound silence. A lot of that list was...unexpected to say the least. Passion made sense for Keith, but respect? Weren’t loyalty and trust practically the same thing? Pidge had curiosity and courage both in spades, shouldn’t she have already been able to use the personality aspect?

 

No, Hunk realized, frowning, it wasn’t that simple. None of the aspects were. Malrento may have summed them up in ways that made them sound simple, but people were complicated and by extension the aspects must be too, since they were supposed to be characteristics of those people. What the Altean had said about the traits manifesting in unexpected ways must hold true for all of them. Especially considering…

 

“Zarkon was the previous Black Paladin.” He didn’t realize he’d spoken aloud until Shiro made a strangled noise of shock and Allura gasped, similar noises of confused realization coming from the others, even the two time-travellers.

 

“Yeah, I mean, will is one thing, but  _ love _ ? That guy?” Lance interjected, brows furrowed as he looked between a pale-faced Shiro and Malrento’s stoic expression.

 

“As I said, there are many, many ways in which the traits can manifest, and they are not always the most obvious or the ones you might expect. After all, the Emperor of the Galra certainly loves  _ himself _ , does he not? And there may be other ways in which love is expressed in his actions of which you and I are unaware.”

 

“I guess…” Lance didn’t seem convinced, tucking one knee to his chest and resting his chin on it.

 

“So,” Pidge interjected, fingers still flying over the tiny keyboard of her wrist computer, “how do we go about learning to use these aspects? ‘Cause healing fingers would be damn useful considering how often those two get battered, bruised, and lightly maimed.” She jerked her head at Lance and Keith, smirking and rolling her eyes when they protested.

 

Malrento chuckled, inclining his head to her. “Meditation, first and foremost, to learn to consciously reach for your quintessence and draw on the abilities once you have them.” There were scattered groans from Lance, Pidge, and Keith that had Hunk exchanging amused looks with Shiro and Allura, the latter rolling her eyes. “And getting in touch with the relevent part of yourself. For example, the natural element is normally learned by surrounding yourself with the appropriate environment and learning to be comfortable with it.”

 

“...So like how I learned to the sonic blaster when I was fighting underwater, and Pidge got the plant cannon after she learned how to work with plants on Olkari?” Lance tilted his head to the side.

 

“Precisely. The others are not so simple, obviously. You will need to think about yourselves, your thoughts, emotions, and interactions. Analyze your strengths and weaknesses, and those of your teammates. Sometimes an outside perspective can help. Consider your role within the team, and how you fit together both in battle and out.”

 

“...In other words, meditate, then meditate some more. Then more meditation.” Keith muttered, drawing a disapproving look from Shiro and a snort from both Lance’s. Kurogane elbowed his partner, which did nothing to dissipate the other’s amused grin.

 

Malrento chuckled. “Your Red is showing.” The comment made the red paladin flush, which only made Pidge giggle and make a comment about it showing even more, worsening the problem. Hunk laughed softly, leaning over to nudge Pidge to leave the poor boy alone.

 

She grinned back at him. “So, meditation, meditation, meditation. No time like the present, I guess.” She tipped her head back to smile up at Green affectionately, who peered down at her with a happy purr. “Whaddaya say, girl, wanna show these losers how it’s done?

 

“I’ll show you a loser!” Lance challenged from across the circle as he rearranged his limbs to sit cross-legged. “Last one to learn an aspect’s got Kaltenecker duty for a month, and first gets to pick where we go next shore leave.”

 

Keith smirked at the blue paladin over his shoulder. “Hope you like cowpies, then, sharpshooter, I’ll cheer you on from the beach.”

 

“Okay, settle down guys.” Shiro laughed softly. “...And besides, we’ll be going mountain climbing when I win.”

 

“Oh hell no!”

 

Hunk chuckled, closing his eyes and letting the playful banter of his teammates soothe him as he reached for his bond with Yellow.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one took a bit longer to get out, chapter 9 was fighting me for the first couple days like you wouldn't believe.  
> No warnings for this chapter, except for massive amounts of BroHance and Hunk being great.

Lance groaned, flopping back on the metal floor of the hangar. Blue made a quizzical noise, angling her head down to peer at him where he lay between her front paws, and he reached up one hand to stroke the cool metal of her chin. The action got a soft purr in response, feelings of pleasure and contentment echoing through the bond, and he grinned. “Don’t worry, beautiful, we’ll get this eventually.”

 

After nearly four full days with absolutely no progress, it was getting increasingly difficult to focus on meditation for hours on end. The blue paladin found sitting still a struggle at the best of times, and the enforced idleness was driving him up the wall. The problem was only compounded by the way nightmares kept jolting him awake every night, leaving him physically exhausted and mentally jittery. He huffed in frustration, torn between pacing and not moving at all.

 

A bolt of aquamarine flew past, striking a target mounted on the wall dead center, and he scowled, lifting his head to watch Allura gather energy in her hands that launched with a quick one-two punch. Nearby Malrento nodded approvingly, touching one of her fists lightly as he explained something too quietly for Lance to hear. She nodded and repeated the motion, this time with bolts that were more compact and left visible cracks in the target.

 

That Allura was making far more progress than any of the Paladins was as understandable as it was frustrating. Malrento was training her separately because apparently working with ambient quintessence, which was what the Druids and only a small percentage of Alteans, including Allura, could do, required entirely different techniques than learning to access one’s own internal quintessence like the Humans were learning to. On the second day, Pidge had spent almost three hours badgering both of them with every question she could think of about the latter process and come away from it all none the wiser except that Alteans apparently had a literal sixth sense for quintessence and that was absolutely 100% Not Fair.

 

Another flare of aqua had Lance dropping his head back to the floor and closing his eyes. The hangar that had been set aside for their training was peaceful, with his teammates all lost in contemplation on or near their Lions, and Allura training over at the far side. Exhaustion tugged at him, turning his limbs to jelly in spite of himself. Maybe he could afford a couple hours for a nap, since he’d spent a few extra hours on meditation this morning after Blue had woken him from a disjointed dream of a crushing darkness, the reek of blood, and tumbling thoughts of  _ can’tmovecan’tfeelwhycan’tIgonnadie _ . He sighed and allowed himself to drift into sleep with a mental request to Blue to wake him if he had another bad dream.

 

A gentle touch on his shoulder woke him and his eyes blinked open to the familiar face of his best friend. “Mm? How long was I out?” He mumbled, propping himself on one elbow to look around, the others nowhere in sight.

 

“About four hours, I think. I didn’t want to wake you, you looked so tired, but it’s dinnertime.” The yellow paladin wore a concerned frown as he looked at the other. “Are you okay? You’re not usually one for naps, especially not long ones, on the floor and in your armor to boot.”

 

Lance sat up and grimaced, realizing that Hunk had a good point as numerous aches immediately made their presence known where the edges of his armor plates had pressed the skin. “Yeah, I just…” He stretched, joints popping noisily and making the bigger teen wince. “...haven’t been sleeping well, I guess. Nightmares.” He clarified at Hunk’s questioning look. “Ever since Kurogane and Alejandro got here, I can’t stop thinking about everything that could go wrong, and it’s coming out in my dreams.”

 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Hunk plopped himself down in front of him, crossing his legs and giving Lance his patented I Really Think You Should Talk About It And I’m Not Above Pestering You Hourly Until You Do stare. A look that Lance had been on the receiving end of more times than he particularly cared to admit, and had long since learned meant that resisting was only delaying the inevitable.

 

“I guess? I mean, I don’t know if it’ll really help, since it isn’t gonna make the source of the stress magically vanish. I don’t even know what I’m having nightmares  _ about _ half the time.” He pulled off his helmet and ran frustrated fingers through his hair, letting it stick up every which way. “Like the one I had last night, it was just darkness, the smell of blood, and feeling trapped and scared. That was it. And yet I still woke up in a panic.”

 

“Your dreams are giving you panic attacks?” Hunk latched onto that admission instantly, looking alarmed, and Lance swore. He hadn’t wanted the other to figure that out, knowing the anxious paladin was worrying about enough things as it was.

 

“Only once or twice, I swear. The one I had the first night was the worst, the others haven’t been nearly so bad.” He waved a hand, trying to paste a grin onto his face, but gave up when he realized the yellow paladin wasn’t buying it one bit. “...Mostly.”

 

The Samoan teen sighed, shaking his head slightly. “Tell me about that one, then, the one from the first night. Talk it out, hug it out, remember?” He smiled, leaning forward to rest a reassuring hand on Lance’s knee.

 

“Yeah, I remember. Friends don’t let friends cry alone.” He managed a small, genuine smile as he remembered one of their rules from their time at the Garrison, the very first one they had come up with a week into their time as roommates, when Hunk had talked a homesick Lance into crying on his shoulder for the better part of an hour then shared the last of a stash of precious homemade cookies he’d brought with him to school. That night had cemented a bond that had gotten Lance through quite a few rough spots in his life, and he’d always done his best to return the favour.

 

“Exactly. Now talk to me.” Hunk straightened, posture relaxed and open as he waited.

 

“Okay…” The Cuban took a deep breath. “Like I said, the first dream was the worst. We were fighting the Galra, but this time we were doing it over Earth. There were a lot of them, but we were holding up okay. Then…” he hesitated, biting his lip. “There was this big ship. Not like any of the others we’ve seen. Looked kinda like it had a giant ion cannon running right through the middle. Looked fucking  _ stupid _ . Then it fired and, well, we weren’t laughing anymore.” His breath hitched, gaze unfocused as the images played out in his memory again.

 

“You dreamed about the Weblum’s Breath?” The yellow paladin asked softly, tone coaxing and concerned. He didn’t try to hug Lance just yet, for which he was grateful. A hug would bring tears, and if he cried he wouldn’t be able to finish talking about it.

 

He nodded, a sharp, jerky movement accompanied by a humorless chuckle. “Yeah, must’ve been. Nothing else I can think of would be able to do what that thing did.”

 

Another gentle prompting. “Which was?”

 

“It was like...I can’t even describe it. Purple energy in a massive beam, the air was burning, the ground was burning, it was tearing a hole straight into the earth. And then the planet just...broke. Shattered. Went to pieces of ice and rock, and Earth was just...gone.”

 

“Oh man, Lance…”

 

Another hiccuping, hysterical laugh. “You know what the worst part was? They could have killed us after that. The Galra, I mean. In the dream. The Lions were all just sitting there, everybody in shock, they could have destroyed us then and there. But they didn’t. They  _ left _ . And then it was just us and what was left of Earth. And then I woke up.”

 

Hunk surged forward, and Lance gratefully allowed himself to sink into the protective embrace, burying his face in one broad shoulder and letting his body shake with sobs. He’d been trying so hard not to think about it, about that horrifyingly vivid glimpse of what could happen, and it was a relief to finally share it with someone else, to be comforted and reassured. His friend was murmuring softly in his ear, a steady litany of  _ it’s okay, buddy, we’re not gonna let that happen. _ The deep voice was choked with emotion and it helped knowing that someone else was as scared as he was at the very idea of losing their family and their home.

 

They stayed like that until Lance’s breathing settled from ragged gasps to trembling but steady and Hunk’s cheeks were slowly drying. Only then did the smaller teen sit up again, although he stayed where he was between Hunk’s legs. “...sorry…” he muttered softly, scrubbing at his cheeks with the back of his hand.

 

The yellow paladin simply shook his head. “Second rule.” He chided softly.

 

Lance rolled his eyes but smiled slightly. “Emotions are good and expressing them is healthy, so never apologize for feeling.” He recited, laughing softly and leaning forward again to rest his forehead on the damp armor of his friend’s shoulder. “What would I ever do without you, buddy?”

 

“Be an anxious mess, I’m sure.” The Samoan teased, patting his back affectionately. “But then, I’d be the same without you, so…”

 

“True facts. At least we get to be anxious messes together, right?.”

 

“Right.” Hunk sighed, shifting against him. “...You said you’ve been having nightmares every night?”

 

“Yeah. Not as bad as the one I just told you about, but that nap was the best sleep I’ve gotten in like a week.” Lance sighed, one hand grabbing onto the fabric of the other’s suit.

 

Hunk hummed thoughtfully, one hand coming up to idly stroke the short brown hair. “That’s not good, you need to be rested in order to train and fight. And from what you’re describing, you’re not getting enough or restful sleep.”

 

Lance snorted. “That sums it up pretty well, yeah. Even music and white noise don’t help because it’s not  _ falling _ asleep that’s the problem, it’s the dreams once I do that are bothering me. If you’ve got any ideas on how to fix that, I’d love to hear ‘em.”

 

“You didn’t seem to have any problems when you were napping earlier.” The larger teen observed, looking around. “Did you not have one then? You were definitely out long enough to reach REM sleep.”

 

He blinked, sitting up in surprised realization. “No, and Blue had instructions to wake me up if I started having another nightmare, so I must not have.” Above them, the Lion rumbled in confirmation, sending him a feeling of having watched over him like a mother protecting her cub. He smiled, sending back a wave of appreciation and affection that she promptly echoed back to him.

 

Hunk laughed. “I’ll take that as a no, too. So something must’ve been different enough to keep you feeling safe and not trigger a nightmare. Maybe because everyone else was around? I mean, we’re all linked through the Lions, maybe you felt their presence or something and it was reassuring.”

 

“Make sense, I guess. But it’s not like I can make everyone sleep in with me just so I don’t wake up screaming every night.” Lance grimaced, cheeks darkening in embarrassment. The last thing he wanted to do was show weakness like that in front of his team, especially Keith.

 

“Says who? We’re a team, and we help each other out.” Hunk said firmly. “So here’s what we’re gonna do. We talk to the rest of the team about this, first off. If it’ll help I’ll tell them I’ve been having nightmares too, that’s not a lie even if mine aren’t every night like yours. We’ll try doing a group sleepover in the living room for a few nights, see if that does any good. If it helps, it helps, if it doesn’t we’ll try something else. Okay?”

 

Lance grinned weakly. “You make it sound so simple.”

 

Hunk smiled back, strong and calm. “Because it is. I got your back, Lance, and so does the rest of the team. Now come on, let’s go have dinner and talk to them, okay?” He heaved himself to his feet, reaching out a hand to his best friend. The blue paladin took it and let the other pull him to his feet and into another brief hug. “It’s gonna be okay.”

 

All he could do was nod gratefully and let himself be led out of the hangar.

 

________

 

Hunk shot Lance an I-told-you-so grin across one of the tables in the Long Wind’s huge cafeteria as Pidge and Keith carried on a heated debate next to them about which of the common rooms in the Castle of Lions had the more comfortable accommodations for a sleepover. Keith contended that the lounge on the sixteenth floor would be best because the couches could be pushed together into a sort of nest arrangement, while Pidge maintained that the thirtieth floor observation room had thick plush carpeting underlaid with some sort of soft padding that made for ideal sprawling. The blue paladin rolled his eyes and blushed but smiled back, seeming much more at ease. Before they could continue their conversation, Keith snarled something insulting that had Pidge narrowing her eyes and the yellow paladin quickly stepped in before things could get out of hand.

 

“Okay, okay, settle down. How about this? We use the observation room,” Pidge crowed triumphantly and Keith scowled, “ _ but _ we’ll make a big nest of blankets and pillows for whoever wants to cuddle. Lance likes looking at stars, and Shiro’d probably be more comfortable with a little bit of space around him, just in case.” All eyes turned briefly to the black paladin, who was oblivious to the attention, lost in an animated discussion with the H’ress sitting beside him. After a moment Keith deflated and nodded, conceding the point.

 

Relieved, Hunk spooned up some more go and popped it in his mouth, chewing idly. The blue goop the Humans (except for Keith and Kurogane for some reason, who had been given purple goo consistently for reasons no one had gotten around to asking about yet) were being fed with was thicker and chewier than the green Altean goo available on the Castle of Lions and that he could see being eaten by the Alteans and some other species here, and his jaws appreciated the difference. “So, that’s sleeping arrangements sorted. Jobs next. I’m food, obviously. Pidge, lighting, music, and entertainment.” The green paladin threw him a cheerful mock salute. “Keith, collect all the blankets and pillows you can find.” The teen nodded firmly, looking determined. “And Lance, party activities, and yes, that can include a beauty session.”

 

The blue paladin looked absolutely delighted at the permission, but hesitated. “This is an awful lot of work, though, what if--”

 

“Stop, Lance.” The other’s jaw snapped shut and Hunk sighed, leaning across the table to grab him by the shoulders. “Listen, okay? We all need this, not just you. And I’ve thought this through, alright? Even if you, me, or any of the others has a nightmare, you wake up, you’re surrounded by your friends. Everyone else works together to provide comfort, decreasing stress and allowing you to get back to sleep easier. Improved rest, improved health, improved morale.” He ticked off his points on his fingers.

 

“It’s a great plan.” Pidge put in, leaning forward with her elbows on the table. “Honestly, I don’t know why we didn’t start doing this sooner. Leave it to Hunk to strategize a solution to chronic nightmares. And don’t start getting all mopey and insecure, Shiro needs this just as much as you do even if he won’t admit it. We’ll make him join even if we have to knock him down and sit on him. Which we might have to, honestly. You push, I trip.” That got a laugh out of the Cuban, and Hunk was relieved to see him finally relax and accept the idea.

 

“It’ll be a couple more hours before we head back and can put the plan into action.” Keith sighed, pushing himself to his feet. “We should probably get some more training in. You never know. Maybe one of us will have a sudden breakthrough.”

 

“And maybe Coran will shave his moustache.” Pidge muttered, but followed. Hunk laughed, exchanging smiles with Lance as they scarfed down the last of their goo and followed.

 

Coming around the last corner, they nearly collided with the green and red paladins who had stopped in the doorway to the hangar. “Whoah, why the traffic jam?” Lance complained, leaning a hand on the wall for support.

 

Pidge looked over her shoulder at them, expression unreadable. “Hunk, were you late to dinner because you were tinkering with Yellow?”

 

Hunk blinked in confusion. That was a very strange question to be asked out of nowhere. Had something happened to Yellow while they were gone? He couldn’t think why else the smallest of the group would be asking that. “No…? Lance and I were just talking…?” He quickly reached out through the bond and got back a sense of contentment, pleasure, and quite a bit of smug, but no concern or explanation. “Why? What happened?”

 

Wordlessly, Pidge pointed into the hangar at the Yellow Lion, and the yellow paladin stepped forward to peer over her shoulder. His jaw dropped in surprise. Yellow was standing proudly, absolutely  _ radiating _ smugness, to the perceptible annoyance of the other Lions. The source of his delight seemed to be the wide metal hoops, similar in shape to a bladeless fan, mounted on the outside of each ankle and currently folded back out of the way that  _ had definitely not been there when he left what the heck _ .

 

“...I’m gonna go get Shiro.” Keith stated quietly, turning and jogging back the way they’d come, Pidge shouting after him to find Malrento as well. Lance was bouncing on the balls of his feet, grinning and babbling about wicked upgrades and speculating all kinds of bizarre weaponry, but all Hunk could do was stare at Yellow in shock. The Lion would have alerted him to anyone messing around, which meant that he must have done this himself, somehow. But why? He prodded his partner again and got back a sense of pride and approval towards the yellow paladin that, while appreciated, really didn’t answer the question. Nor did the image of bright, glowing yellow that accompanied the emotions. 

 

He was still staring in bemusement when Keith returned, Shiro jogging anxiously behind him and Malrento following rather more sedately. The black paladin stopped in the doorway alongside him, peering out at the Lions. “When did this happen?”

 

“While we were at dinner.” Pidge explained. “Hunk didn’t do it himself, he says he and Lance were just talking before they came.” Her side-eye at the larger teen suggested she didn’t quite believe him.

 

“Hmm…And what was it you were doing during dinner?” Malrento’s vibrant orange eyes fixed Hunk with a stare that seemed to look right through him.

 

“Planning a sleepover.” He stuttered out, intimidated by the expression. What did that have to do with anything?

 

“On a whim, or for a particular reason?” Was it just him or did there seem to be pride and maybe a little bit of awed satisfaction in the Altean’s expression.

 

“Lance has been having nightmares. Hunk thought a shared sleeping environment would help  _ everyone _ ” Keith fixed Shiro with a knowing stare as he spoke, making the older male’s cheeks redden “get a better sleep because they fall asleep knowing where everyone is and if they have a bad dream then everyone else is there to comfort them.”

 

“In other words,” Malrento stated, and yeah, that was definitely a pleased expression, “You became aware of a problem, considered the implications and options, and crafted a plan to resolve the issue.” Hunk tilted his head. That was what he’d done, yeah, but something about the older man’s wording made it sound just like…

 

“Wait, the yellow combative characteristic?!” He spluttered, wide-eyed in shock. The startled exclamations of his teammates were drowned out by Yellow’s roar of confirmation, and he looked back and forth between his Lion and the Altean. “It’s only been four days!”

 

“And yet here you are. Go on and find out how the planning aspect has manifested for you. Before your blue teammate explodes from excitement.” Malrento gave Lance a teasing smile, who blushed but grinned back, still bouncing. The Altean put a hand on Hunk’s back, giving him a gentle push forward toward his Lion. The others followed right behind, peering curiously up at the new hardware.

 

Yellow was quick to lean down and offer the ramp, and purred happily as all five paladins crowded into the cockpit. The screens flickered to life as Hunk dropped into his seat, and a touch of a key sent information scrolling across the main panel, diagrams and status readouts standing ready. He scanned the screen until he found what he was looking for, the name of Yellow’s new features.

 

“Gravity anchors? What are those for?” The name and diagram were not particularly enlightening, and Pidge, who must have been climbing the back of his chair to lean that far over his shoulder, was frowning in equal confusion.

 

“Why not take us out for a spin? Give them a try?” Shiro suggested reasonably. He leaned around to tap the communications panel, opening a channel to the communications hub. Avenol grinned back at them from the projected holoscreen a moment later, raising an eyebrow in surprise at the sight of all five current paladins crammed into one cockpit. “Hey, Avenol, can you give us clearance to take the Yellow Lion out for a short flight? Testing a new feature.”

 

The Altean nodded, turning his attention to his own panels. “Right away, Black Paladin. Opening hangar. Watch out for meteors, there’s some debris out there.” He warned.

 

“Will do. Black Paladin out.” The connection closed and the deck vibrated under them as the hangar door began to slide open. Hunk could feel Yellow twitching excitedly and grinned.

 

“Hang on, here we go!” He shouted, pushing the controls forward and sending the Lion charging toward the growing patch of starlight, laughing at the chorus of shrieks behind him at the unexpected maneuver. Then they were at the opening, leaping into open space and kicking on the boosters to soar in a lazy spiral. They kept moving until they were a safe distance from the Long Wind and the Castle, not wanting to risk the ships with untested weaponry.

 

Bringing Yellow to a halt and feeling four pairs of excited eyes on the back of his neck, Hunk took a deep breath. “Okay, buddy, let’s find out what these things can do...activating gravity anchors!” He hit the button to activate the system, felt power surging toward the Lion’s legs…

 

Nothing happened.

 

He frowned, double-checking the commands for the system. Had he hit a wrong button, or was he using them wrong? As an engineer, not knowing how these things were meant to be used was frustrating as hell.

 

“Maybe you need to be moving?” Keith offered into the silence from somewhere at the back of the cockpit.

 

“Worth a try.” He sighed, deactivating the anchors. He pushed Yellow’s throttles forward, not maximum speed but still a respectable pace. “Activating in five,” he warned, keying in the command sequence. “and...now!”

 

The effect was instantaneous, like running into a brick wall even with the inertial dampeners all the Lions possessed. Hunk was slammed forward in his safety harness. Pidge was flung forward with a scream off her perch on the shoulder of his chair, crashing into his lap and her helmet cracking off the arm. Shiro slammed into the back of the chair with a loud  _ oof _ , and there were cries of pain and metallic thuds as Lance and Keith were knocked off their feet entirely.

 

There was silence for a moment, followed by a chorus of pained groans. “What the  _ fuck _ just happened?” Lance complained, pulling himself cautiously into a sitting position as though he expected to be flung to the ground again at any moment and blatantly ignoring Shiro’s reflexive “language, Lance.”

 

“Umm…” Hunk checked his readouts, searching for an answer to that question. One number in particular caught his eye and he gaped. “We just went from about 75% of Yellow’s max acceleration to a dead stop pretty much instantly? And her boosters are still going but we’re not moving? At all?”

 

Pidge struggled upright, still in his lap, and straightened her helmet to look at his screens. “You’re shitting me. Dude, that’s  _ insane. _ The momentum involved…” Her eyes widened. “Call up the canon. I bet you anything you won’t have recoil issues with those babies on.”

 

Hunk stared at her, then gasped, a delighted smile slowly spreading across his face. The recoil of the massive canon his bayard summoned was a frequent issue, as it allowed the enemy to predict the motion of the Yellow Lion for a few critical seconds every time he fired, Newton’s third law pushing him in the opposite direction to his target when he fired. If that was no longer going to be a problem, he’d be that much harder to hit. His Lion’s armor was good, but not perfect. In fact, he realized, the gravity anchors were the answer to a lot of his maneuverability problems as well. As the heaviest Lion, especially in his armored mode (the aspect of Earth, apparently), Yellow had the lowest acceleration and the hardest time changing direction due to sheer momentum. But now he’d be able to stop sharply and take off in a new direction whenever he wanted. The Galra wouldn’t know what hit them! 

 

“Everybody sit down and hold on, I’m testing a theory.” He warned, giving his teammates a few seconds to situate themselves and ignoring the frankly alarmed looks they exchanged. Once they were ready, he pushed the throttles forward again. “Be prepared, vehicle makes sudden stops!”

 

A brief pulse of the gravity anchors killed most of his momentum in a sharp jerk and a second later he was off again, in a direction at right angles to his original path. Another touch of the controls, another change of direction, this time almost a complete reversal of course. He let out a delighted whoop, plunging his bayard into its port and pulling up the cannon. He let it charge, flying fast and hard in random patterns, then stopped to fire at a random asteroid, letting the anchors kill the recoil just like Pidge had speculated before chasing his own blast into the shattered rock shards. The yellow paladin laughed delightedly. This was  _ fantastic _ !

 

Satisfied, he made one last course change, taking them slowly back toward the Long Wind. Behind him, his teammates speculated loudly about the upgrades their own aspects might result in and how they could increase their versatility in battle, based on Yellow’s drastically improved maneuverability. 

 

Hunk grinned. He couldn’t wait.

 

___________

 

As he strode down the corridors of the hidden base, Kolivan’s face and body language remained utterly impassive; yet he still managed to exude an aura of barely controlled fury that sent lower ranking Blades scrambling to clear his path, ducking into rooms and cross-corridors and pressing themselves against the walls in a desperate bid to avoid drawing the leader’s ire. He might have found it amusing if he hadn’t had such grim thoughts on his mind.

 

The warnings of the two time-travellers--and if a Bytor said that’s what they were, then they were, no matter how impossible it seemed--had been dominating his thoughts for the last few rotations. Ten thousand cycles of careful work would be destroyed within another one and a half if he failed to act on the information given him. The question was who, how, when, where. Not for the first time he regretted the loss of Antok in the assault on Zarkon’s command ship. The other had a gifted mind for puzzles.

 

Reaching the privacy of his quarters, the Galra locked himself in before activating his personal computer. A dozen holoscreens popped up around him, and in a few moments he had the profiles of every current member of the Blade displayed, tiny thumbnails beside angular Galran script that listed basic statistics such as placement, role, and time since joining the Blade.

 

In the midst of all this information, Kolivan ran over the conversation with the two paladins once more. Whether they realized it or not, the two had given him some very crucial details that he could use to narrow down the list of potential suspects. Time, and data.

 

The first was the timeframe. According to the red paladin, total destruction would take place within one and a half cycles. No member who had been with them for such a short period would be privy to sufficient information to wipe out every base and every undercover operative. And while hacking was a possibility, a great deal of sensitive information was not recorded, maintained only in the minds of the leader of the Blade of Marmora and a handful of trusted members. Therefore it was a near certainty that the culprit was already within their ranks, and the thought made him snarl with fury and outrage.

 

The second was far more crucial. The two had implied that the Blade had been unable to give warning of the development of a weapon capable of destroying planets. That meant the knowledge of its existence had never reached him, deliberately censored or played off as mere rumor until it was too late. The Blade of Marmora had many operatives working in deep cover, but the majority of those were stationed amongst the rank and file of the military, passing information on troop movements, the Arenas, the ebb and flow of resources within the Empire. They likely would have heard rumors of a new weapon being developed, and Kolivan would naturally have had someone from his handful of higher-ranked operatives look further in order to either confirm or dismiss, depending on the information in those rumors.

 

Whoever he had chosen for that task, in the other timeline, had chosen to betray them all.

 

With a few growled commands, he dismissed most of the profiles, leaving only the two dozen operatives on that short list. He regarded them, scowling darkly, for some time before inspiration struck. “Computer, record message. Encryption, supplementary orders. Blade, you are to be on the lookout for any information regarding the development of a new weapon, a potential planet-destroyer. Relay any information you find, rumors included. Knowledge or death. End recording.”

 

With a few swipes of his claws he created a list of names from the handful of profiles still glowing on the screens around him. “Send to all.” Kolivan commanded.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter include a panic attack, brief medical horror (in a flashback), and Keith being an utter disaster when it comes to feelings. To skip the medical horror, don't read the paragraph that starts with "That's the plan, as I understand it." To skip the panic attack as well, start at the same point and skip down to "Thanks. Sorry."
> 
> Also, you ever start a creative project and by the time you realize it's completely out of control you're in too deep to stop? I'm just over here side-eyeing one way at the 51k words already written and then side-eyeing the other way at how much plot there is still to cover. Hoo-boy.

In their year and a bit in space, Keith had rapidly learned that almost nothing was universal. Biology, psychology, ethics, all varied from planet to planet and sun to sun. Even physics was up for debate, given the way they’d been treating the Human-derived laws of the universe as unenforceable polite suggestions ever since they found the Blue Lion. That being said, there was exactly one thing that the red paladin had observed consistently, no matter where they went or what species they encountered, one thing that could be considered a universal constant based on the available data.

 

_ Any _ excuse for a party.

 

Alteans, it turned out, were the biggest gossips in all of space. By the time Hunk had parked Yellow back in the hangar alongside the other Lions, Malrento and Avenol between them had managed to inform most of the ship of the achievement and a celebration had been rapidly organized in their honour. Half a dozen assorted aliens had all but dragged them to a storage room where they were quickly fitted with casual clothes (thankfully not as stuffy or frilly as those in storage on the Castle) before being passed off to another group for cleaning, preening, and styling. None of the aliens involved really took the time to explain what was going on until Keith tried to bite one of them out of sheer frustration. In his defense, both his arms were tangled in too-tight jacket sleeves at the time and that Balmeran would  _ not _ stop touching his hair.

 

And now here he was, pressed up against the wall of the cafeteria and trying to avoid the attention of anyone who seemed to be looking for a dance partner while the rest of his team had readily vanished into the chaos.

 

From his perch on one of the dining tables that had been pushed against the wall out of the way, he caught occasional glimpses of them through the crowd. Allura and Coran, faces flushed and literally glowing, each partnering a wide variety of Aliens. Lance, dancing with various feminine-looking aliens half the time and Hunk or Pidge the other. Hunk and Pidge dancing with each other or with huge or tiny aliens that made for hilariously bad dancing as they tried to accommodate the size differences. Kurogane and Alejandro had gone by several times, never in anyone’s arms but each others. Even as he watched they spun past again with practiced grace, smiling at each other in a way that made his chest ache until he deliberately averted his gaze. Shiro he had yet to catch sight of.

 

At least the music was good, an improvised dais off to one side playing host to an ever-changing variety of alien instrumentalists and singers, Bytor multiple pipes, an insect-like alien playing something that resembled a harp, three H’ress working together to play something that looked like the hybrid offspring of a piano and a drum set, and dozens of others. The singing was nice too, even if he couldn’t understand a word of it without his armor’s built-in translator. The song changed, the H’ress drummers setting up a pounding beat, and he found himself nodding his head in time.

 

“Having fun?” A voice in his ear asked, making him jump.

 

“Shiro!” The black paladin grinned at him apologetically, holding out a cup of some dark liquid. Keith took the offering, sniffing it warily before taking a cautious sip that tasted of licorice and nutmeg. The other leaned back against the edge of the table beside him, taking a drink from his own glass before folding his arms across his chest.

 

“Have you been here the whole time?” The black paladin asked, looking over at him curiously.

 

Keith frowned. “You know I don’t do parties, Shiro.” He set the cup down beside him on the table. “Where have you been? I’ve seen everyone else a bunch of times.”

 

“It’s a surprise.” Shiro grinned secretively, chuckling as two aliens with rather a lot of limbs between them got tangled up and tripped, knocking over another group on the way down. Everyone involved seemed to be taking the mishap in good humor as their neighbours helped them to their feet. The red paladin supposed this sort of thing must happen a lot, given that just because people were dancing didn’t mean they were  _ good _ at it, especially when you put together different species with different dancing styles with music that wasn’t from either of their planets. Although some of them certainly were, he admitted grudgingly as he caught sight of Lance again, laughing as he expertly dipped a being who might have been Nyma’s cousin before pulling her up into a spin.

 

Shiro must have seen the scowl on his face. “You could ask him to dance, you know.” At Keith’s blank look, he gestured with his drink in the direction of the Cuban teen. “Lance. You could ask him.”

 

“Don’t be stupid.” The Korean stated flatly, ruthlessly trying to suppress a blush at the idea and not quite succeeding. “Why the hell would he want to dance with me.”

 

“Why indeed…” The older male muttered, hiding behind his glass and shaking his head. Movement from the direction of the dais caught his attention and his face lit up. “Oh good! It’s ready! Come on!” He grabbed Keith’s hand and began pulling him in the direction of the musicians, drinks abandoned.

 

“Wait, what? What’s ready?” Just then he caught sight of the newest addition to the selection of instruments and balked, digging in his heels and trying to pull his hand free from his brother’s grasp. “Oh  _ hell _ no. I am not going up there.”

 

“Well I can’t play it alone, now can I?” Shiro grinned over his shoulder, tightening his grip to keep the smaller paladin from escaping as he continued to pull him through the crowd.

 

“Shiro! I haven’t played since that class ended!”

 

“So? I guarantee you, nobody here knows what any Human music is supposed to sound like, so no one will know if you mess up.”

 

Keith continued to struggle in the black paladin’s grip, more out of principle than any real hope of actually getting away. “Where the hell did you even find an o-daiko out here anyway?” He demanded, eyes locked on the massive double-headed drum, gleaming and smooth where it rested on tall supports. Seriously, where the fuck had that even come from?

 

“The H’ress.” Shiro explained as they reached the stage, letting go of Keith to pick up one of the sets bachi sticks. “Apparently they can make just about anything as long as they know the design of it, because their manufacturing process is basically 3D printing taken to the atomic level. So when I saw that everyone was welcome to take turns making music…”

 

“...You asked them to manufacture an o-daiko drum for you?” Keith gaped at the Japanese male, who nodded. He really shouldn’t be surprised, when Shiro cut loose he really cut loose. It just happened so rarely that it always took the red paladin by surprise. He sighed, unable to keep protesting when the man looked so happy, a glimpse of the secretly fun-loving man he’d been before Kerberos. “...Fine. One song.”

 

Shiro laughed, clapping him on the shoulder. “Fantastic. Let’s go.” He shucked his shirt off and Keith followed suit, not wanting to get the fabric all sweaty. He swung up onto the dais and took his position at the far end of the drum, shaking out his arms as they waited for the current set of musicians to finish.

 

Then the music ended and all eyes were on them, just two aliens of a species most of the beings here couldn’t even name and one massive drum.

 

He took a deep breath as Shiro struck the first beat.

 

Then they were both moving, Keith following Shiro’s lead just like they used to when the older had signed them up for a class on Taiko drumming years earlier back when they were still at the Garrison, ostensibly to help the younger improve his stamina and upper body strength but Keith always suspected there had been other motives that Shiro had never admitted to or discussed. The two had turned out to work naturally together, their sparring rhythms translating easily to the kata of the drums.

 

They started slow, finding their fingers after so long out of practice, and Keith was relieved to find the motions coming easily. Then they picked up the pace, rolling complex rhythms and heavy beats that the audience seemed to appreciate even if they weren’t quite sure how to dance to them. Keith could feel the sweat rolling off his back and his heart pounding with exertion and exhilaration, his muscles burning like they did in a good training session. The two of them move seamlessly, their drum patterns meshing perfectly.

 

Before he knew it, they were done, fast crescendos and a powerful double-blow to each end of the drum bringing the piece to a close. Keith held his pose, chest heaving and blinking sweat out of his eyes as he became aware of the cheering aliens crowded around the dais.

 

At Shiro’s prompting, he bowed a couple of times before jumping down from the dais--only to find himself unexpectedly nose-to-nose with a wide-eyed Lance.

 

Keith blinked in surprise, reaching up to swipe his sweaty hair back from his face. The blue paladin blushed profusely, making a faintly strangled noise that had the Korean raising an eyebrow. “You okay?”

 

Lance opened and closed his mouth a few times before he managed to find his voice. “Yes! Good! Never better!” He choked out, eyes flicking down to the red paladin’s bare chest before pulling back up to his face. “You’re...you were great.” he stammered, face going even darker.

 

“Uh...thanks?” The sudden praise was as baffling as it was flustering, Keith turning away to grab his shirt in order to cover his own blush. He quickly pulled it on before glancing back at the other awkwardly. “I should…”

 

“Wait.” A thin hand grasped his wrist before he could finish formulating the sentence. His gaze jerked up and met Lance’s intensely blue eyes. “I, um...dance with me?” The Cuban gestured behind him to the dance floor, once again crowded with aliens swaying to something that might have passed for a waltz back on Earth.

 

Keith felt his cheeks flare hotly, remembering the grin on the other paladin’s face as he danced and his own longing as he watched from the sideline. “...Yes.” he said quickly, as much to forestall his own anxiety as to keep the taller teen from withdrawing his offer.

 

Lance looked startled. “Wait, really?” he sounded as though he couldn’t believe Keith was actually agreeing.

 

“Yeah. Okay. Let’s dance.” He said, trying to sound more confident than he felt and not quite managing to look Lance in the eye.

 

The way Lance’s face lit up made Keith’s heart race in his chest, unable to tear his gaze away from the tanned male’s joyous expression. He hadn’t smiled like  _ that _ at any of his earlier dance partners. He didn’t even realize he’d been pulled away from the wall and into the open dancing area until suddenly there was a hand on his waist, the other being cupped gently off to one side. He froze, suddenly panicking.

 

“Ever danced a waltz before?” One brown eyebrow quirked upwards, but there was no mockery in the tone of the question. He quickly shook his head, reddening with embarrassment. Lance smiled reassuringly, bobbing his head. “Here. Put your other hand on my arm. Like this, okay?” He helped Keith place his arm, then positioned their feet. “When I step forward, you step back on the same side. When I step sideways, so do you. I’ll make sure you don’t run into anything. Got it?”

 

“I...think so?” He answered hesitantly.

 

Lance’s grin widened. “Okay. Here we go!” He stepped forward, Keith stepped back, and then they were moving.

 

Keith wasn’t sure if what they were doing could really be called  _ dancing _ , giving the way he kept stumbling and tripping and his partner had to keep correcting his grip, but he couldn’t bring himself to care, hyper-aware of Lance’s hand on his and on his waist, of the very few inches between their chests and his own hand on the other’s bicep, and of the smile on Lance’s face, soft and joyful, that made his cheeks burn and his heart feel like it was trying to fly out of his chest, the pounding almost drowning out the music entirely.

 

They came to a stop as the song ended, frozen for a moment in the midst of the crowd.

 

Suddenly it was all too much, the noise, the closeness, Lance’s smile. “I need a drink.” Without giving Lance a chance to respond, Keith turned and bolted into the crowd, losing sight of the startled Cuban in an instant. He pushed his way between people without a thought for manners, only intent on getting away, finding some space and solitude. He burst out of the cafeteria and made a beeline for the hangar, for the sanctuary of Red’s cockpit.

 

He stayed there, trying to meditate the image of Lance’s smile and the feel of his hands out of his head, until the others finally returned to their Lions to make the short jump over to the Castle and their beds. As the other left their Lions once more, he saw the blue armored figure stop and take a long look back over his shoulder at Red, as though waiting for Keith.

 

Keith didn’t leave Red’s cockpit that night.

 

_________

 

Shiro sighed, looking from one end of the hangar, where Keith sat on Red’s paw meditating silently, to the far end, where Lance and Hunk sat shoulder to shoulder, deep in discussion, and shook his head despairingly. The awkward tension between the pilots of the Red and Blue Lions was as obvious as the scar on his face, from the stubborn silence at breakfast that had Kurogane and Alejandro smirking knowingly at each other and Pidge and Hunk exchanging exasperated looks to the way they sat turned away from each other even at opposite ends of the hangar. He wasn’t sure quite what had happened between losing sight of the two in the crowd on the dance floor last night and Keith actively avoiding Lance now, but he rather suspected it had to do with the fact that as long as he’d known him, the red paladin was about as good at vocalizing his feelings as a brick wall would be. Not that Lance was much better, he thought, snorting softly. The blue paladin’s monologuing to the Yupper during the mission to rescue Slav several months ago had been an abrupt awakening for Shiro about taking his teammates at face value, a behaviour he’d been trying to correct ever since.

 

Hopefully they’d both manage to sort themselves out before this interfered with their ability to work as a team. Allura, either oblivious to the tension or more likely ignoring it, had announced over breakfast that morning that she would be joining Kurogane and Alejandro for their daily strategy session with Shiiar’keh in order to discuss having Voltron assist with future strikes against the Galra Empire, meaning it likely wouldn’t be long before the paladins saw combat again. The last thing they needed was yet another factor working against them on top of everything else.

 

The sound of footsteps tapping across the floor toward him alerted him to Pidge’s approach. The tiny green paladin flopped down beside him, crossing her legs and leaning back against one of Black’s claws with a soft huff. “Idiots. They’re both idiots.” She muttered, gazing heavenward for help.

 

Shiro laughed. “Is that what they’re talking about over there?” He gestured to Lance and Hunk and was rewarded with an irritated nod. “What exactly happened, anyway?”

 

She shrugged. “They were dancing, they both seemed to be having a good time, then Keith bolted. Lance can’t figure out what he did wrong to make Keith upset. My money's on ‘he didn’t’.”

 

The black paladin sighed again. “I’m not taking that bet. Keith gets scared when he has strong attachments to people, which is understandable given the way he grew up. And his two main conflict resolution strategies for things that make him nervous, afraid, or uncomfortable are ‘fight it’ or ‘avoid it and hope it goes away’. Although I gotta say, the fact that he’s going with the second one is a good sign, compared to how much they used to bicker. It means he doesn’t want to push him away completely, just maintain the status quo.”

 

“In other words, continue having them both pining hopelessly and choke us all with their painful obliviousness.”

 

“Pretty much, yeah.”

 

“Have I ever told you your little brother is an idiot?”

 

“Frequently, but for what it’s worth I agree.”

 

Pidge made a frustrated noise. “And Lance is completely oblivious to the fact that Keith clearly has it just as bad as he does. I mean, granted Keith usually expresses his opinion of things by either punching them or not, but you’d have to be blind to miss the way he looks at the boy.”

 

“I don’t think Lance actually expects people to be interested in him, though.” Shiro mused, looking over at the blue and yellow paladins across the hangar. “So he doesn’t see it even though it’s painfully obvious.”

 

“Hopeless.” The small teen rolled her eyes in annoyance. “Moving on to things that can hopefully be resolved  _ before _ the heat death of the universe, have you heard anything about getting your arm looked at?”

 

The older male nodded, looking down at where the purple-grey Galra metal was hidden by the black fabric of his suit. “Kurogane said the last of the specialists they contacted should be here tomorrow morning. They had to wait for one of them to finish major repairs on a damaged druid enhancement on another ship, but the others are all here.”

 

Pidge raised an eyebrow, looking impressed. “Sounds like these guys know what they’re doing, then. Deactivate the override if possible, replace the prosthetic if not?”

 

“That’s the plan as I understand it, yeah. Although I’d prefer the former, I’m a little hesitant to have major surgery at the hands of aliens who have never seen a Human before, let alone know anything about their biology.” Shiro shuddered involuntarily at the thought. The Druids hadn’t known anything about him either, had poked and prodded at every opportunity as they tried to find out how such a small, fragile creature kept fighting, surviving, winning on the blood-soaked sands of the arena. Injuries were opportunities to them, gaping wounds windows into his flesh to be pulled apart for better viewing of the veins, muscles, organs, and bones beneath. He could still remember the feeling of thin fingers and cold metal tugging at the lacerated ribbons of his right arm, exposed nerves screaming at the touch and blood hot and sticky against his side--

 

“Shiro?”

 

He jerked, coming out of the memory with a wild gasp. Pidge was staring at him in concern, one hand hovering over his knee as she hesitated to touch him. Seeing his eyes refocus on her, she called again softly. “You with me, Shiro? Where are you?”

 

“Y-Yeah.” He swallowed, his tongue feeling like sandpaper in his mouth. “I-I’m here. Hangar on the Long Wind.” He could feel Black’s concerned touch now, gently curling around his mind with a soothing purr.

 

“Good. That’s right.” She gave him a small, relieved smile. “Is it okay if I touch you?” At his shaky nod she put an arm around his waist, curling against his side. He let the contact ground him, painless touch that had been nowhere to be found during that agonizing year. He hated this, hated the way memories could just sweep him away sometimes until he didn’t know where he was, hated that a fifteen year old who shouldn’t have had anything to worry about except school and friends was so used to having to bring him out of them that she didn’t even bat an eye.

 

They stayed like that for a while, listening to the faint rumble of the massive resistance ship in operation around them, until Shiro’s heartrate had calmed and he no longer felt like he was about to break down screaming.

 

“...Thanks. Sorry.”

 

“It’s fine, Shiro, you know that.” She smiled up at him, amber eyes bright. “Want me to come with you tomorrow when they look at your arm?”

 

He hesitated. “I don’t want to…”

 

“If you’re gonna finish that sentence with ‘be a bother’, don’t, because you wouldn’t be.” Her eyes gleamed. “I would  _ kill _ to get a look at the internal tech of your arm, seriously. Let me come.”

 

He burst out into startled laughter. “That curiosity is gonna get you in trouble one day, Katie.”

 

The ginger girl grinned shamelessly up at him. “You think I’m afraid of that? Curiosity and  _ courage _ , Shiro. I’m well supplied with both.”

 

“That you are.” He ruffled her hair affectionately with his left hand, still leery of using his right until it had been looked at. “How you haven’t unlocked that aspect yet, I have no idea.”

 

She shrugged. “I’ll get it eventually.” She started. “Green says Allura and Shiiar’keh are here.” She said, scrambling up to peer around Black’s massive paw toward the door.

 

Shiro pulled himself upright as well, following Pidge when Allura’s call of “Paladins!” summoned them to her for a meeting. The Altean princess seemed quite excited as the five joined her, and Shiro was relieved to see that Keith and Lance both seemed to be putting aside their own issues for the moment, listening attentively as she began to speak.

 

“In order to afford more opportunities for attuning yourselves to the aspects, as well as to continue fulfilling your duties as Paladins, we’ve come to the agreement that the five of you will participate in some of the Long Wind’s strikes against the Empire. They are planning to make an assault today on a mining moon that supplies a significant percentage of the Empire’s Almathium, a critical element in the construction of ion cannons. The versatility and durability of the Lions will provide the Long Wind’s forces with a major advantage.”

 

Shiiar’keh nodded, gesturing for them to follow. “Come with us to the planning hall, it is nearly time for briefing.”

 

The planning hall turned out to be a large room that reminded Shiro of the old lecture theatres at the Garrison, with curved tiers of seating surrounding a central area that housed a holoprojector and a H’ress named Gra’shehn who was apparently in charge of combat strategy. The projector displayed a diagram of the moon they would be assaulting, large enough to be clearly visible to the myriad aliens crammed into the tiers in their navy-and-orange combat suits. The Voltron Paladins squeezed in at one end of the highest tier, drawing quite a few eyes with their bright white armor. Then Gra’shehn made a warbling sound and all eyes turned back to them.

 

The plan of attack was deceptively simple. Attack from the air by all squadrons, with the defenses destroyed from highest threat level to lowest according to the map. Once the air defenses dropped below a certain danger level the ground teams--and here Gra’shehn rattled off a list of names that meant nothing to Shiro but were obviously familiar to the ship’s inhabitants judging by the nods of confirmation from one alien or another--would deploy. The Blue Paladin would assist a squadron designated Chal-fey, who were down their best long range member due to illness, and a Bytor on the far side of the room waved a surprised and pleased Lance over to her. The ground teams were to clear the sentries, drones, and soldiers before moving on to data recovery--Pidge was assigned to that team under a massive red lizard-like alien--and prisoner evacuation while the remaining squadrons provided air support and defense against any unexpected reinforcements. Once the base had been cleared and stripped of anything useful, the Long Wind and Castle of Lions would use their heavier armaments to raze the buildings and collapse the mines rather than leave useable infrastructure should the Galra return to the moon.

 

The entire briefing had the feel of a well-oiled machine, and it probably was, Shiro realized. He remembered the speed and ease with which the Long Wind had scrambled these same squadrons to their defense less than a week ago. This ship and others like it had been terrorizing the Empire for centuries. Before he knew it the warriors were being dismissed to prep their craft for combat, and he and the other paladins were making their way back to the hangar and their Lions to prep for battle.

 

“Everyone know where you’re going and what you’re doing?” He called as he powered up Black. The huge Lion roared eagerly, tail lashing.

 

“I’ll be flying with the Chal-fey squadron.” Lance answered promptly. “Their fighters are  marked with pink and green feathers, and they’ll be doing the ground assault on the secondary mine shaft.”

 

“I’m assigned to the Helmus data retrieval team going after the main building.” Pidge called. “Aquamarine diamonds and reserve only for air combat.”

 

“Drawing fire from the main defensive towers for the front line squadrons.” Hunk responded. “And passenger evacuation from the barracks.”

 

“Fighting alongside the second line squadrons to take out the perimeter defenses and Empire air support at the hangars.” Keith rattled off easily. “And rear-guarding the evac.”

 

“And I’ll also be helping the second line and rear guard.” Shiro completed, pleased. It felt strange to be fighting alongside a fleet of other ships, even more so when they were split up to different areas, but Gra’shehn had put each of them in a position to use their strengths. Things would probably be a little rocky at first while they got used to working with the Long Wind’s Hunters, but he was confident his team would settle in in no time. Ahead of them the hangar doors slid open and the Lions tensed restlessly, waiting on the command of their pilots.

 

They didn’t have long to wait. When the signal came it was a single word broadcast over the coms, a traditional call to the hunt that was echoed from every ship. “ _ H’ress’wr! _ ”

 

The Voltron Lions launched out of their hangar as one, joining the steadily growing swarm of small craft forming up around the star-flecked hull of the much larger vessel. Blue split off one direction, Green another, Yellow a third, and Shiro sent Black diving after Red to take up position with a group already plunging toward the purple splotches of Galra buildings visible mottled grey-yellow surface of the small, rocky moon below.

 

Then the Galra fighters rose to meet them and there was no more time for conscious thought.

 

Black slashed and snarled, lashing out with cannons and claws as the pair tore a path through the enemy ships, the Long Wind’s hunters delivering death with equal fervor. Red was an occasional streak in his vision, an afterimage of destruction as she shredded everything in her path. Then they were through, the majority of the base’s aircraft falling back down as debris as various rebel squadrons chased down the survivors. Across the base Shiro could see smoke rising from the spires of defense towers, Yellow just visible against the sky as he drew fire from the last few guns.

 

He frowned. Something felt wrong. He called up Black’s scanners, searching for any enemy groups that had missed their attention. While the Long Wind’s forces were formidable, and backed by the Voltron Lions in this fight, it shouldn’t have been over that quickly. His scanners showed no Empire ships in the immediate vicinity, only the ground teams landing and deploying to penetrate the buildings. But he couldn’t shake his sense of unease.

 

A chirp from his coms was Keith hailing him. “That was too easy.” The Red Paladin said firmly, cementing Shiro’s own suspicions, and the chatter on the open lines said their allies felt much the same. His eyes scanned the skies.

 

A moment later his worst fears were confirmed as his screens lit up with the brilliant purple indicators of incoming Galra ships breaking cover from behind the gas giant around which the moon orbited. Lots of them. Shiro tightened his grip on the controls. “Alright, Black, time for round two.”

 

________

 

“What in Altea’s name are those battlecruisers doing here?!” Allura demanded as alarms sounded across the bridge of the Castle of Lions. Similar alarms could be heard through the open connection to the Long Wind’s main deck, where the crew were desperately trying to assess the situation. With frantic fingers she and Coran called up and charged the main weapons that should not have been needed yet.

 

“I do not know, they should not have been!” Shiiar’keh snarled back. The H’ress sounded shaken, their four eyes scanning the holographic projection of the oncoming fleet. “Our scouts did not report any active fleets in this subsector!” The alien hissed an epithet that didn’t translate. “Somehow they were expecting us.”

 

“Could the Icebringers have been infiltrated as well?” This question she directed to Alejandro, piloting one of the Castle’s defense drones with a grim expression on his face.

 

“Doubt it.” He stated sharply, never looking away from his screen. “The Icebringers don’t work the way the Blade does, with covert operatives. They send out scouts to track fleet movements and study targets. No direct contact with the Empire except when hunting.”

 

The castle-ship shook as heavy fire battered the particle barrier, and it seemed as though for every ship shot out of the air, two more surged forward to fill the gap. Allura felt terror rising in her throat and suppressed it forcefully. “Shiiar’keh, we need Voltron. There’s too many for the Long Wind and Castle of Lions to take out alone.” 

 

The H’ress nodded, turning away to converse rapidly with Gra’shehn. The latter flicked their tail and began to bark orders over the com lines to the teams on the ground. “Chal-fey, Helmus, get the paladins back to their Lions, all claws to the ice! All air squadrons, cover the Lions while they form Voltron! Ground teams, back in the air in case of retreat!”

  
“Particle barrier is at 12% and about to fail!” Coran’s shout drew the Princess’s attention back to her own bridge. Desperately she redirected power from other nonessential systems, trying to hold out just a little longer against the relentless barrage of enemy fire. The concentrated blast of an ion cannon hit them and the viewscreens flared blinding white for a moment, forcing her to close her eyes with a cry of pain. When she opened them again she found herself staring down the barrel of the ion cannon, a purple glow visible inside as it prepared to fire again on the now-unprotected Castle. With a surge of despair she braced herself for the inevitable.

 

It didn’t come. Instead her eyes snapped open at Alejandro’s whoop of relief to the sight of Voltron tearing a path of destruction through the Galra fleet, the battlecruiser about to fire on them already sliced open by the glowing sword. She sagged against her control columns for a moment, watching with numb relief as the Long Wind’s squadrons followed Voltron into the thick of battle, letting the giant robot handle the most dangerous weapons and tearing apart what was left. With a shake of her head she forced herself to straighten. The battle was not yet over, and the Castle of Lions was still needed. With Coran helping her divert power as needed, they added the castle-ship’s heavy cannons to the assault.

 

The tide turned, soon enough the Empire fleet was in tatters with two surviving cruisers in full retreat boosting for the distant stars as the Long Wind’s squadrons regrouped around their home. Gra’shehn’s tone was crisp as they snapped out new orders. “Resume ground operations as originally planned, but the Palakoth, Ro-vakth, and Taranot squadrons are to divert to the destroyed cruisers for data retrieval.”

 

Shiiar’keh’s dark eyes fixed Allura with a grim stare, the H’ress obviously just as perturbed as she was. “They knew we were coming. For the safety of all the packs, I intend to find out how.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go, I've been super excited to post this chapter ever since I wrote it.
> 
> Warnings for this chapter: graphic character injury (in the italic section at the beginning), panic attack (from the end of the italics to the paragraph that starts 'Lance nodded, feeling a surge of guilt')

_ “That’s right, Champion. Do what you were made to do.” _

 

_ His hands were shaking in a way that they never normally did when he held his bayard, and even if they weren’t, he wasn’t sure he could have brought himself to fire. Not at Shiro. _

 

_ But this wasn’t the Shiro they knew. Their Shiro didn’t have eyes that glowed a sickly purple-blue and narrowed with a cruel smile. Their Shiro would never have thrown Pidge into the wall with such force that her helmet cracked and she slumped to the ground unmoving. Their Shiro would never have grabbed Hunk’s arm and bent until the yellow paladin screamed and sobbed and pleaded, then kept twisting until the bones shattered under his hands. Their Shiro would not have ripped Allura’s side open with his arm glowing a blinding magenta, and how she had avoided being run right though he didn’t even know. _

 

_ Their Shiro would not be trying to kill them. _

 

_ He was kneeling, a protective shield in front of their injured with the metal wall of the corridor at their backs, levelling his gun at the Black Paladin and not daring to fire with his shaking hands for fear of hitting Keith as the Red Paladin went toe-to-toe with his brother, red bayard against Druid arm. This was no sparring match, but a life or death battle. And in the background, Haggar laughed mockingly as she controlled Shiro, forced him to fight against them. _

 

_ Then suddenly Keith was on the ground, knocked off his feet by Shiro’s greater strength and size, and Shiro was on top of him, glowing arm reaching to grasp the younger male by the throat. _

 

_ “Finish him.” _

 

_ The air was filled with the odor of burning flesh and Keith was writhing, struggling, burning his hands against the bright metal as he fought to get free of the crushing, searing grip on his neck, mouth working futily as he tried to breath. There were tears on his cheeks, despair and fear in his eyes. Desperately, Lance aimed his bayard, tried to will his hands to stop trembling. _

 

_ Shiro lurched backward, a look of horror on his face. _

 

_ For a moment, there was confusion as Keith gasped for air, Haggar shrieked in outrage, and Lance stared down the barrel of his bayard and looked Shiro right in the eye. One was still the ugly blue-purple of Haggar’s magic, the other his normal grey. His arm seemed to glow brighter than ever. The Black Paladin’s face was a tangle of emotion: horror, guilt, sorrow; regret, longing, fear; anger, determination, acceptance. _

 

_ “Get them out of here.” _

 

_ Then Shiro was whirling, surging to his feet with a roar of absolute fury and lunging toward the head of the Druids with his arm blazing ultraviolet and Lance was scrambling to get the rest of his team out of the enemy ship, Allura in his arms, Pidge over Hunk’s good shoulder, and Keith running beside them, a wound in the shape of a handprint burned deep into his throat. _

 

“Lance, wake up!”

 

The blue paladin surged upright with a cry, and would have clashed skulls with Pidge if the tiny green paladin hadn’t toppled backward with a yelp at his outburst. He looked around wildly, chest heaving, the pillows and blankets on the floor in the observation lounge overlaying with Galra corridors and bloody burns in his vision. Someone was talking to him but the words were white noise in his ears. All he could focus on was the deep burn in Keith’s neck and the sick sense of certainty that he would never see Shiro again--

 

His eyes landed on the blanket-covered forms of the other two paladins curled up beside each other and with another loud, desperate cry that might have been a swear he scrambled across the uneven mess on the floor to grab onto them. He was only loosely aware of the startled exclamations as he woke them by roughly rolling Keith onto his side and tugging at the neckline of his shirt to expose the red paladin’s throat--smooth, unmarked pale skin--before grabbing Shiro’s face and staring into his eyes--wide with confusion and alarm, but their normal shade of dark grey, both of them. He sagged in relief, hands tangling in his hair and knees curling into his chest.

 

“...--ance, breathe, buddy. In, two, three--...”

 

“The fu--...--ppened?”

 

“Nightmare. Must’ve be--...”

 

“C’mon, La--...--four, and out.”

 

Without conscious thought he recognized the familiar rhythm of someone coaching his breathing and tried to match it, the nausea and dizziness slowly subsiding until he realized Hunk was kneeling in front of him with an anxious expression even as he continued to chant the breathing counts in a steady cadence. Pidge, Shiro, and Keith hovered behind him, their faces showing varying degrees of concern and confusion, and Blue was purring in the back of his head. Hunk must have seen something in his face that gave away the fact Lance was finally aware of his surroundings because he stopped counting and gave a small, hopeful smile. “There we go. You good, buddy?”

 

Lance nodded, feeling a surge of guilt. They had started having sleepovers in the hopes that it would eliminate the string of nightmares he’d been having. Instead he’d woken up everyone instead of just himself. “Sorry, guys. Didn’t mean to wake you.” He whispered hoarsely.

 

The others frowned, and Shiro shook his head. “It’s fine, Lance. Waking people up when you have a nightmare so they can help you through it is the whole point of this. We want to help, and we can’t do that if we don’t know about it.”

 

“Especially when it’s as bad as this one obviously was.” Pidge agreed, rummaging around in the blankets until she found her glasses and pushing them onto her face. “You were thrashing around and kept muttering Shiro’s name, and then after I woke you up you practically threw yourself across the room and started manhandling him and Keith.” She tilted her head to the side, the unspoken question obvious in her posture.

 

Lance bit his lip hesitantly. He’d seen Shiro’s renewed wariness of his Galra prosthetic ever since Alejandro and Kurogane had arrived and warned him that the witch who had given it to him could use it to take control of him. The man did not need the added stress and unnecessary guilt of Lance’s nightmare weighing him down. It was just a dream anyway, his overactive imagination taking the warnings of the time travellers and spinning horrific stories out of them. “Yeah, but I’ll be okay.” He evaded, plastering a smile onto his face, and tried to ignore the way not one of them looked convinced. “Seriously, it’s fine. Let’s get back to bed. Big day for Shiro tomorrow, right?” It was a flimsy excuse at best, he knew, but after that dream he couldn’t wait for that arm to be fixed.

 

Hunk continued to eye him suspiciously for a long moment, then gave an exasperated sigh. “Fine. You’re right, we all need to get some sleep.” His expression hinted that this was only a temporary reprieve, and that was fine. Lance just didn’t want to talk about this particular nightmare in front of Shiro. “C’mere and cuddle with me.” The yellow paladin flopped back onto the blankets, pulling one over himself and holding it up for his friend to join him.

 

The Cuban teen didn’t need to be told twice, curling up beside the larger teen. A moment later Pidge was a reassuring weight against his back, and a glance over his shoulder told him that the last two were just on her other side. If Lance wanted to reassure himself again that Shiro was still with them and Keith was unhurt, they were right within arm’s reach. He firmly squashed the impulse to reach out and trail his fingers through Keith’s long black hair, even if it did look unfairly soft and would probably be really relaxing to play with--no. None of that. The red paladin had made his opinion of Lance’s feelings quite plain when he ran off after dancing with him at the party. Heck, Lance was lucky he’d gotten him to dance at all before the emotionally-challenged teen had realized why he’d asked.

 

Lance firmly turned himself back to face Hunk and closed his eyes. This was fine. They had enough problems without Lance screwing up the team’s dynamic with unrequited feelings. Better to focus on solving those, first, so nothing like his dreams would ever happen.

 

____________

 

Alejandro fidgeted restlessly against the wall of the engineering lab that had been set aside for the use of the specialists working on Shiro’s arm, his gaze darted from screen to screen as he examined the various images of the internal workings of the black paladin’s mechanical arm. He glared at one that showed a horizontal cross-section of the hand as though he could intimidate the image into giving up its secrets.

 

He felt a soothing rumble in the back of his mind and forced himself to relax, sending back an affectionate nudge. Blue purred approvingly and reassured him that they would have their answers soon enough and all the anger in the world would not make it go any faster no matter how much the red paladins of the world might wish it, drawing a chuckle from the scarred man’s throat. Blue’s sense of humor was just the same as it had always been.

 

He was immensely grateful for the fact that sometime after they’d arrived he’d regained a connection with the Blue Lion of this time, and hadn’t  _ that _ been a shock, waking up shaking from another nightly reliving of his worst memories to the familiar comforting purr in the back of his head. He’d been so shocked he’d burst into tears and it had taken a worried Kurogane several minutes to get a coherent response out of him. When he did, however, the other had folded Alejandro into a joyful hug.

 

Kurogane, sadly, could not sense this time’s Red at all, and Alejandro had felt guilty over that for all of a tick and a half before his partner, who could read him like a rookie soldier, smacked him upside the head before he could even open his mouth. Why and how he was able to talk to Blue but Keith couldn’t hear Red was a mystery that would likely never get solved; it wasn’t like there was a manual for quintessence-based time travel, and even if there had been, it had most likely been lost with Holt.

 

Blue’s touch gently pushed him away from that thought before he could wander into bad memories, directing his attention back to the world in front of him. Shiro was seated at a table with his right arm inserted up to the shoulder in some fancy piece of equipment that seemed to function much like an MRI, but better. A holographic projection of his arm that could be poked, prodded, and pulled apart floated in the middle of the room, surrounded by nearly a dozen aliens of varying species, including four Olkari and three Alteans who had been summoned from throughout the Icebringers and its allies to work on the Black Paladin’s arm. Alejandro glanced at the man and snorted softly to himself. Shiro had been anxious as hell when they’d arrived that morning, trying very hard not to look like he was clinging to Pidge’s hand and not quite succeeding, but now he just looked bored and his eyes were glazed. The Cuban couldn’t blame him, the technicians were conversing in Olkari, and given how technical the language was he doubted the man was following any better with the Castle’s translators than Alejandro was without. Even Pidge looked a little lost, which was impressive.

 

A clearing of a throat drew his attention to one of the Olkari, who had turned to him, looking perplexed. “I thought you said there was some sort of override feature beyond the standard remote shutdown.”

 

He blinked. What? “There is. I’ve seen it in use. The head Druid of the Empire took control of him and forced him to attack his own allies.” On the other side of the room, Shiro swallowed nervously at the thought.

 

The Olkari frowned, turning to one of the Alteans and asking a question. The Altean shook her head and responded in the Altean language, a complex explanation of something to do with quintessence that Alejandro didn’t quite catch. There was a brief exchange before the Olkari turned back to him, shrugging in bewilderment. “We can’t find anything like what you’re describing. There’s no override.”

 

He felt frozen, alarm building despite Blue’s attempt to calm him. What were they talking about? “Of course there is. You must’ve missed it.” Even as he said it he knew he sounded ridiculous, challenging an Olkari on technical matters. But he’d seen the override in action. He knew what it was capable of.

 

“We’ve been through every inch of the arm and its grafts several times.There is nothing there. It’s just a standard enhancement arm. Whatever you saw, it wasn’t Haggar controlling him.” The Olkari was glaring back at him now, clearly growing frustrated with his stubbornness.

 

“I know there’s an override there somewhere, because Shiro did  _ not _ try to crush Kurogane’s throat with his hand active for shits and giggles!” He snarled, anger boiling over suddenly at the insinuation against the teammate he’d lost. “Check _ again. _ ”

 

Too late he became aware of the stunned expressions of the black and green paladins on the other side of the room. The latter looked horrified, the former ashen. For a long moment no one spoke. Then the Olkari nodded stiffly and turned back to the projection, thin fingers reaching to study it once more. Alejandro stared down at the floor, unwilling to meet Shiro’s distraught gaze. Suddenly his view of the smooth silver-brown metal was interrupted by the intense amber gaze of Pidge, staring up at him with her arms crossed.

 

“Is that actually what happened?” She asked quietly. “She tried to make him kill Keith like that?”

 

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. He and Kurogane had intended to keep the details of the horrors they’d seen between the two of them, to spare whatever innocence they could. And now he’d gone and blown it. “...Yes. Among other things that I’d really rather not talk about. But he  _ was _ being controlled, and it had to have been the arm, because even druids and  _ amvel nayeta _ can’t control sapient beings using quintessence. It’s the first thing we ruled out. Something to do with the complexity of the quintessence.”

 

The green paladin nodded slowly, still regarding him with an intense stare. “I believe you...maybe they just missed something.”

 

Alejandro grimaced. “Unfortunately, that’s not as likely as I made it sound. These guys are very good at what they do. If they said it’s a standard arm, it’s pretty much guaranteed to be a standard arm.”

 

Pidge frowned, pursing her lips consideringly. “I didn’t think standard Galran enhancements could light up with energy like Shiro’s does. I mean, we’ve only seen a few, so what do I know, but you’d think we’d have heard of it. Or that people wouldn’t be so surprised when he uses his.” She looked over at the black paladin, who was looking up at the holographic projection with an expression of fear and nausea.

 

“...That is a very good point.” Alejandro whispered, eyes wide. “Why the fuck didn’t I think of that? I’ve  _ never _ seen another arm that can do what Shiro’s does. Hey!” He raised his voice, getting the attention of the specialists. “There’s no way that can be a standard arm! Standard arms can’t charge up with quintessence!” At the baffled expressions directed his way, he huffed. “Show them, Shiro.”

 

The Japanese male hesitated. His anxious expression spoke volumes about his reluctance to use the weapon that had been forced on him after the time-traveller’s inadvertent revelation. “I don’t think…”

 

Alejandro strode across the room, grabbing the man gently by the shoulders. “Listen, Shiro. You didn’t do any of what you did that day willingly. Haggar was  _ controlling _ you. And you know what happened when she tried to make you kill Keith?  _ You managed to fight her off _ . You pushed back her control enough to turn your arm against her, and bought time for the rest of us to escape. You saved our lives, Shiro. I trust you.”

 

Dark eyes stared up at him, wide in shock and disbelief. Slowly, cautiously, Shiro nodded. He pulled his arm from the machine, the projection of the mechanical portion remaining. Under the curious gaze of the technicians, he held it away from them and activated it.

 

The reaction was immediate, various combinations of confusion, disbelief, and incredulity sparking startled cries and exclamations across the room. A number of loud, energetic discussions broke out, the Altean and Olkari flowing and overlapping too rapidly for Alejandro to follow. The group watched as the arguments rose in pitch and volume until finally the Olkari who had originally told him there was no override broke away to speak with them.

 

“Clearly there is more to this arm than is immediately obvious. We will have to study more closely, and that will take time.” She glanced over her shoulder, scowling at the projection as though it had personally offended her. Given the natural Olkari affinity for technology, and the way the arm’s functions were not matching up with its form, it practically had. “You can leave for now. If we have news we will find you.” She turned on her heel and waded back into the conversation, a wordless command for the three Human to get out and let them do their job.

 

_________

 

Pidge was still mulling over everything she had learned when they rejoined the rest of their group in the cafeteria, sliding into her spot on the bench and digging into the offered bowl of blue goo without so much as glancing at it. She let the conversation around her flow right over her head as she mentally reviewed the last few hours.

 

It had been fascinating, seeing the inner workings of Shiro’s arm. Much more mechanical than she’d expected, with tiny, intricate parts that must have been the secret of how it moved so naturally and had to have been far stronger than they looked given the prodigious strength the green paladin knew the limb could exert. The only visible computerized component had been some sort of connective block at the point where metal met flesh that probably served to translate nerve impulses to electronic ones. She chewed contemplatively, wondering if she could convince one of the Olkari specialists to give her a look at the block’s electronics so she could see how it worked.

 

Seeing the way the limb had been connected, on the other hand, was...disturbing. The scans had given them an all-too-clear view of the way metal had been somehow fused to the bone and tied to the muscles, with nerves threaded into the block like wires. There didn’t seem to be much of a load distribution system, though, which worried her. Was the full force of the arm’s leverage getting transmitted into that connective point? That seemed like a recipe for disaster to her, even if she didn’t know much about biology, only what she’d picked up from Matt during his studies. Pidge made a mental note to ask about it later.

 

Even more worrying was the fact that Shiro’s arm was apparently doing things it shouldn’t have been able to do. The technicians had insisted that Alejandro’s mysterious override didn’t exist in the design of it, and they had freaked the fuck out when they saw him activate the combat mode, so obviously it wasn’t supposed to do that either. They had said it was a standard enhancement. Either the technicians were missing things in the design of the arm, which was unlikely given how many of them there were and how experienced they were supposed to be, or both the override and combat mode came from somewhere else, which was a mess of possibilities she didn’t even know where to start with.

 

And if it was the second option, she realized with mounting worry, it meant that Alejandro and Kurogane were flat out  _ wrong _ in some of the information they’d given to the rest of them. Which was frankly alarming, because if they were wrong about that, what else were they wrong about? How much of the action they’d already taken was based on flawed information and faulty assumptions because they had made the basic mistake--she read science fiction, she should be more genre savvy than this!--of assuming that just because someone was from the future, they knew everything?

 

What sort of critical, game-changing things, good or bad, might they be missing because they  _ didn’t _ ?

 

________

 

A British author named Ian Fleming had once said, ‘Once is happenstance. Twice is a coincidence. Three times is enemy action.’

 

Colleen Holt did not believe in coincidence.

 

Which was why, the moment she’d seen the report on the morning news about three Garrison cadets killed in a night time training accident, bodies unrecoverable, two faces that she didn’t know and one that she unmistakably  _ did _ , she had forced back her tears for later; gathered up a few changes of clothes, a large quantity of handwritten notes (you can’t hack what isn’t on a computer, and that was the first rule she’d taught her daughter when she started dabbling with machines), and a good supply of cash; and made well-covered tracks halfway across the state to an old ranch house left to her by a friend.

 

After all, it would be the height of stupidity to sit around waiting for the third blow when you had every reason to suspect it might fall on  _ you. _

 

The ranch house was private, but close enough to town that neighbours would notice anyone approaching who wasn’t supposed to be there, and well-stocked for a variety of emergencies because after decades in the courtroom, Colleen had long since lost any sort of trust in governments, corporations, and the military. People she trusted just fine; organizations, on the other hand, were never to be trusted. Once she’d secured the property, she cleared off the living room wall, took a deep breath, and channelled anger and grief into focus as she began laying out her facts piece by piece.

 

Fact one: Takashi Shirogane was a damn good pilot, too good for ‘pilot error’ to be anything other than a load of horseshit. Nevermind the complete lack of details in regards to exactly what that error had been, she’d prosecuted enough accident investigations in her life to know a flimsy excuse when she saw one. Yes, the Kerberos crew was almost certainly dead, because she couldn’t think of any way they wouldn’t be no matter how much it hurt to think that she would never see Samuel or Matthew again, but whatever had happened, pilot error wasn’t it.

 

Fact two: One year later, her daughter, acting under a false identity, and two others had disappeared under mysterious circumstances from the Garrison. ‘Training accident’ was an even bigger pile of horseshit than ‘pilot error,’ because the Garrison didn’t do night time training for cadets, not to mention she had it on good authority the base had been under Zulu Niner at the time, meaning everyone back to barracks for a headcount. And yet three missing cadets had not been reported according to protocol and their absence covered up.

 

Fact three: The Garrison was the biggest den of lies, corruption, and political intrigue she’d ever seen, and she’d worked with politicians, CEOs, and other lawyers. She trusted nothing they said and suspected everything they did.

 

Coleen’s well-honed gut told her that someone, somewhere, had known something they shouldn’t, and it had gotten six people, three of them children, killed or vanished. She intended to find out who, what, and why, and when she did she would tear to pieces all those responsible. She set to work immediately, calling contacts and chasing leads to find out if her husband, her son, or her son’s best friend (had either of them ever told each other how they really felt, she wondered? God, she dearly hoped so) had knowingly or unknowingly been involved in something the Garrison wanted to cover up, something they were willing to kill to keep secret. She would bring the Garrison down around Iverson’s ears if that’s what it took to make this right.

 

And that was how she’d ended up back out in the desert, too close to the Garrison to be remotely safe, following the trail of someone her research had suggested would be most likely to have information about anything Takashi might have known that would make him a target, one former Garrison cadet Keith Kogane, the boy Takashi had mentored for years before the Kerberos mission and who had been expelled for ‘discipline issues’ (more Garrison horseshit) just a few weeks after the crew had been declared lost.

 

The shack Ryou had told her about, where Takashi and Keith had often spent their weekends looking at the stars and his best guess as to where she might find the latter (no home, no family, and no close friends except the dead pilot, apparently), looked battered and run down as she approached it warily. The last thing she wanted to do was startle Kogane if he was here, although that was looking less and less likely by the moment. A hoverbike sat half-buried in the sand by a door that swung loose on its hinges, the latch ripped out of the doorframe by the rough demands of the wind. There were no lights on inside, no sound or movement visible.

 

Cautiously, Colleen approached the door and pushed it open, putting her shoulder to it to force a path through the sand that had blown in to sit in low piles on the floor. Here, too, were signs that this was a place that had been lived in, once, and then suddenly abandoned without warning or preparation. Clothes, ranging from plain t-shirts to an odd purple body-suit, were still draped over the couch, dirty dishes in the sink, what might have been a cup of coffee once resting on the desk beside the ancient computers whose keyboards were choked with dust. Keith Kogane may have been living here at one point, but he definitely was not here now, and seemed to have taken nothing with him when he left. That there were no signs of a struggle was not reassuring in the slightest. 

 

A glimmer on the ground caught her eye, and she crouched, pulling the small object free of the sand and turning it over. Her breath caught in her throat. An ace pride pin that had been custom-printed to read ‘Programming is better than sex.’ It had been a present for Katie’s thirteenth birthday after she’d come out to the rest of them, and she’d kept it securely attached to her laptop bag ever since. If the pin was here, Katie had been too, and Colleen clutched the pin to her chest, taking a deep breath and swallowing the lump in her throat. More evidence in her favour, stacking against the Garrison. Standing, she spotted something covered by a sheet on the far wall, and made her way over to it, picking her way around chairs that had been pulled into a group as though several people had sat waiting for something.

 

Pulling down the dusty sheet from the wall, her eyes widened. Cave drawings, inscriptions, ancient star charts, all meticulously documented and photographed to be pinned to the wall. Rough interpretations and translations littered post-it notes stuck all over. Notes, coordinates, descriptions of weird energy and a strange pull filled the gaps between. And in the center, linked to the star charts and drawings by black thread, a date circled in red.

 

The same date Katie and her group had vanished, and, she was now willing to bet, Keith Kogane too.

 

Colleen Holt pulled out her phone and dialed a number without taking her eyes off the images in front of her. “Ryou? You remember those odd local cave drawing stories of lions and sky warriors you could never find the origin of? I’ve got something you need to see. Meet me at Takashi’s shack near the Garrison. Yes, you heard me. Bring your notes, whatever you need for analyzing languages, and supplies for cave diving and a long stay. See you soon.”

 

Snapping her phone shut and pocketing it, she stared intently at the conspiracy board spread across the wall of the shack. Somewhere in this mess was an answer, she could feel it in her bones. “Alright, Keith Kogane. What do you, my family, and an ancient cave full of blue lions have in common?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case anyone needs it, you can find a reference list of the aspects (except the last one) here: https://vldaspect.tumblr.com/post/162335536625/aspects-cheat-sheet


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No warnings for this chapter~
> 
> Sorry this one took a little longer, I had basically no time to do any writing yesterday, and I'm actually posting this from my break at work.
> 
> Also, all the people who were excited to see Mama Holt kicking butt (everyone, based on the comments XD) need to go read squirenonny's Duality series. I mean, the second story is literally called 'Mama Holt's Army'!

“...Remind me again, how was this supposed to help us work on unlocking the aspects?”

 

Lance looked over at Keith and found himself trying desperately not to laugh. The red paladin was standing awkwardly near the door, surrounded by almost two dozen small children of various species who were staring up at him with varying expressions of curiosity and fascination. The teen looked more uncomfortable than Lance had ever seen, as if he had absolutely no idea what to do with the situation.

 

“It isn’t. Allura just said that so you wouldn’t argue when she volunteered us to help out in the nursery today.” Lance grinned, crouching down to be closer to the level of the various small aliens. A Galra cub blinked at him, sticking one claw in her mouth, and he smiled at her. “Just chill and go with it, we needed a break anyway.”

 

Keith made a noise of discomfort, turning in a slow circle as he tried to keep an eye on the little ones behind him as well. “Go with  _ what _ , exactly? I have no idea how to handle kids. Why are they staring at me?”

 

Lance rolled his eyes, sighing. “So the great Keith Kogane doesn’t know everything, huh? They’re curious about you. Just sit down or something. Play with them, talk to them. Hey, sweetheart. What’s your friend’s name?” The blue paladin added softly, trying to coax a particularly shy little H’ress who was clutching nervously at a stuffed animal as they peered out from behind a climbing structure.

 

The small one crept slowly closer, hugging their toy. “Sholra.”

 

“Sholra, huh? That’s a pretty name.” Lance managed to get the name out without mangling it too much and was pleased to receive a nod of approval. The Castle’s translators were a life-saver, even if it meant wearing their armor whenever they were around aliens, but they still had to wrap their mouths around frankly unpronounceable names on a regular basis and H’ress names were some of the worst. How his and Keith’s future selves had managed to learn to speak the language themselves was an achievement to be respected.

 

Following his suggestion, a nervous Keith was settling himself cross-legged on the floor in the middle of his circle of children. “Um...hi?” He asked awkwardly.

 

An Altean boy promptly clung to his shoulder, poking at one of his ears. “What are you? Your ears are so weird!”

 

“Are you really part of Voltron?” A mermaid-like alien girl demanded, leaning over the edge of the tank-like structure on one side of the room, far enough that Lance worried she was going to fall out entirely.

 

“Can your lions really blow up an Empire cruiser in one shot?” Her twin brother inquired curiously, resting his elbows on the edge.

 

A tiny Galra cub crawled up to Keith, sniffed him thoroughly, made a pleased chirruping noise, and curled up in his lap to settle in for a nap.

 

Another H’ress cub pawed at the red paladin’s mouth curiously. “Your teeth are blunt. How do you hunt?” They sounded absolutely baffled.

 

Keith shot Lance a look of absolute desperation as the barrage of questions continued, a millipede-like alien tucking themselves under his arm and a tiny puffball with bat-like wings settling onto his head and playing with his hair. It would have been hilarious how helpless he was if the boy hadn’t looked so overwhelmed and terrified (not to mention unfairly adorable). Chuckling and trying to suppress a blush, Lance took pity on his teammate and waded into the mess. “Okay, guys, get off of him and give him room to breath. You’re asking so many question he doesn’t even know which one to answer first.”

 

He gently transferred the flying puffball to his own head, shooed the millipede and Altean away despite their protests, and managed to corral the youngsters to sit in a rough semicircle before plopping himself down beside a red-cheeked Keith who mumbled a quiet “thank you” to him. Lance grinned at him, reaching over to gently ruffle the hair of the sleeping toddler in the other boy’s lap before turning his attention back to their curious audience. “Alright, so who wants to learn all about Voltron?”

 

A chorus of delighted shrieks and growls answered that question, the sleeping cub letting out a mewl of protest that had Lance waving his hand in a shushing motion that thankfully seemed to be sufficiently universal to get the point across, or maybe they were just reacting to the same noise. Quickly they settled again, looking at him expectantly in a way that reminded Lance suddenly and painfully of his younger siblings and cousins whenever he got stuck being the one taking care of them. He swallowed hard against the sudden painful lump in his throat and forced a smile. He saw Keith raise an eyebrow at him and ignored it, clapping his hands instead.

 

“Okay, raise a limb if you’ve heard of Voltron.” A show of hands, claws, and wings was duly raise. “Good, good. Now, raise a limb if you think you know what it is. How about you, what’s your name?” He pointed to the millipede-like alien, who was waving an antenna frantically.

 

“Chek-fin. And it’s five ancient spirits that possess beings to strike down evil-doers!” They waved several arms in the air excitedly much like a human child might mime karate chops and punches, making Lance chuckle.

 

“Sort of. Anyone else? How about you?” He gestured to an Altean girl who had rolled her eyes at Chek-fin.

 

She smiled, straightening and flipping her blue braid over her shoulder. “Mola. And the Lions are living quintessence that work with beings that have matching quintessence to restore balance to the universe. That’s why you have to have all five to make Voltron, the balance.” She recited, looking pleased.

 

Lance blinked. “Huh. Learn something new every day. Okay then. Now, I’m Lance, the blue paladin, and this here’s Keith, the red paladin.” He gestured to his teammate, who looked startled and reddened as though he hadn’t quite been paying attention. “Now let me tell you all about our adventures!” With that, he launched into a (heavily-edited) recounting of their adventures to date. “So, it all started back on our home planet. Our leader, Shiro, had been missing for a year…”

 

The Cuban teen felt himself relaxing as he spoke, gesturing for emphasis and making ridiculous voices for everyone and bantering occasionally with Keith whenever the other paladin called out his embellishments. Storytelling was always something he’d enjoyed, especially to his family, and these kids may have been aliens but the similarities were unmistakable. The shy little H’ress with the doll named Sholra reminded him of little cousin Juanita, who always hid behind Tia Estefania’s legs when they came over. Chek-fin was every bit as excitable and enthusiastic as cousin Tajo. And Mola acted  _ just _ like his little sister Mariposa, right down to the hair flip. It was a surprisingly comforting bit of familiarity.

 

“...Except Sendak and Haxus didn’t know that they’d made one  _ big _ mistake when they put up the barrier. They may have locked Shiro, Allura, and Keith  _ out _ , but they’d locked Pidge _ in _ . And let me tell you, no one on the team is scarier than Pidge when--” A loud knock at the door startled him mid-sentence and he glanced over his shoulder before getting to his feet and swinging the door open. “Hello?”

 

An older-looking Galra female stood on the other side of the door with a cart filled with bowls of food goo. She nodded to him in greeting. “Good afternoon, paladin. I brought lunch for yourselves and the cubs.”

 

Lance blinked in surprise. Lunch time already? Where had the time gone? “Come on in, then. Thanks, ah…”

 

“Zokena. And I am simply doing my job.” She eyed him curiously, looking him up and down. “Do you know who gets what, or would you like some assistance?” Her tone was mild, but Lance got the distinct impression she was silently laughing at him when he looked at the various colours uncertainly.

 

“A bit of help would be appreciated, actually.” He admitted, chagrined, and started passing out the bowls she pointed to and giving them to the children she indicated. “I don’t actually know what the different colours mean yet.”

 

“All our ship had was the green stuff.” Keith added, stroking the fur of the cub who was still sound asleep in his lap, if now clinging to the fabric of his suit with tiny claws. He made a face. “Got really boring really quick.”

 

Zokena looked over at the red paladin and frowned. “You were being made to subsist on class 3 rations?” The concern and mild alarm in her tone made Lance pause, looking up at her in surprise, especially since her dismay seemed to center around Keith specifically, rather than both of them.

 

Keith also seemed surprised at the sudden attention, expression baffled. “Uh...yeah? Everyone else in the team was eating it without problems.”

 

The Galra scowled, passing out bowls of blue goo to the mer twins. “Everyone  _ else _ in your team are not half-Galra, or so I am given to understand. Class 3 rations are for species that are entirely or primarily herbivorous in their dietary requirements. And while they may provide sufficient sustenance for some omnivorous species such as Humans, who would normally receive class 2 rations, they are  _ entirely _ unsuitable for beings whose diet is primarily carnivorous. That is why when your group first arrived, the one called Kurogane informed us of your and his need for class 1 rations, to ensure proper health going forward.” She sounded frankly outraged at the apparent indignity he’d been unknowingly subjected to.

 

The red paladin looked stunned by the revelation, eyes wide. “I...I didn’t...shit...this explains so much…” His gaze dropped to the child in his lap as he went silent, processing this.

 

Lance looked from Keith to Zokena in surprise. “So even though he looks Human, his dietary needs are more like a Galra?” He questioned curiously, setting Keith’s bowl of purple goo on the floor in front of him before sitting down with his own blue goo.

 

She nodded, taking her portion of purple and sitting as well, one of the Altean children moving to sit beside her. “Yes. If you were unaware of this, and thus failing to accommodate it, I would recommend having one of the ship’s medics looking him over to ensure there are no health issues arising from it. I don’t know about Humans, but for Galra children improper diet can have severe long-term consequences.”

 

The Cuban nodded seriously. “Thanks for the warning. We’ll talk to Shiro and Allura about that tonight. Better to check and not need to than need to and not check, right? Although if there were anything serious to watch out for, Kurogane probably would have mentioned it when he arrived instead of just making sure Keith started getting the right food.” At least, he hoped that was the case. The two time-travellers hadn’t actually told them much about the things they’d seen beyond the general situation. They hadn’t even explicitly told them about the destruction of Earth, but it was easy enough to put that together from what they had said about the Weblum’s Breath and everything they’d lost. “Even if he didn’t mention the food thing at all.”

 

Keith shrugged, reaching for his food. “Probably just never came up, with everything that’s been going on. I mean, there’s been a lot of minor stuff that we haven’t really been able to follow up on because we’ve been so concerned with the aspects and stuff like Shiro’s arm.”

 

“Probably shouldn’t talk about that in front of the kids, Keith.” Lance interrupted hastily, glancing around to see all the youngsters engrossed in their own meals and quiet conversations about the stories the two paladins had been telling. Thankfully none seemed to be paying attention to the adult conversation and the serious turn it had taken. “I mean, yeah, we gotta follow up on it, but this isn’t really the place.”

 

Zokena purred approvingly at his caution. “I need to be getting back to the cafeteria, even with rations providing food on this ship is a full time job.” Gently shifting the child next to her, she unfolded her long limbs and rose to her feet, doing a circuit of the room to collect empty dishes from the children. Depositing them on the cart, she flicked an ear at them. “It was a pleasure to meet you both.”

 

“You as well. Thank you for explaining the rations to us.” Lance nodded respectfully and got to his feet as well, holding the door while she left. Then he turned back to the kids already rearranging themselves back where they’d been sitting before. “You guys want to hear more Voltron stories?” He couldn’t help but grin with delight when they cheered.

 

“...And I still send messages to Plaxum and Luxia every week, just to see how they’re doing.” The blue paladin surveyed his audience, many of whom were looking sorely in need of a nap and several of whom were already sleeping. He was pretty sure it was the ship’s equivalent of mid-afternoon, so this was probably as good a time as any. Pushing himself upright, he began passing out blankets and pillows from the stack in the corner to anyone still awake, the recipients obediently finding open patches of floor to curl up on. Then he started gently shifting those already asleep, trying his best not to wake them as he tucked them in. He could feel Keith’s eyes on the back of his neck as he worked.

 

“...You’re really good with kids.” The Korean teen commented as he settled Mola down on a thick blanket with a sleepily mumbled protest. She nuzzled into the pillow and settled as Lance pulled the blanket over her with a smile.

 

“Well, I’ve had a lot of practice.” He explained, grabbing a pair of cold water pouches and tossing one to his teammate as he surveyed his handiwork. Almost two dozen children of varying ages and species lay scattered around the room, all sound asleep. Keith’s lap was still occupied by the small Galra cub who had claimed it at the very beginning. Lance wondered if the other’s legs were falling asleep. “Big family.”

 

“Right.” Keith had an odd expression on his face that Lance couldn’t quite read as he poked the straw into his pouch. “What’s that like?”

 

Lance gave a soft laugh as he returned to his spot beside Keith, stretching his legs out in front of him while being careful not to bump any of the sleeping little ones. “Noisy, usually. I have seven siblings, thirteen aunts and uncles who live nearby, and a ton of cousins, not to mention my parents and grandparents. It gets crowded and annoying sometimes, but I wouldn’t change it for the world.” Even as he spoke, he could feel a lump in his throat and hastily scrubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand. “...I really miss them.” The words didn’t really convey exactly how he’d been feeling lately, with the thought of the Galra suddenly descending on Earth and wiping it off the star map hanging over them. The grief he’d felt in his dream the first night, the terrifying thought of never seeing them again.

 

He felt an awkward, hesitant arm around his shoulders. “...You’ll see them again. We’ll keep them safe.” Keith said quietly, as though he’d read Lance’s mind to hear what he couldn’t convey out loud. “Tell me about them?”

 

Lance nodded gratefully, seizing on the change to a more positive train of thought. “Okay.” He held up a hand, ticking off on his fingers. “There’s my parents, Rosa and Alistair. They’re great, but my mami can be absolutely terrifying if you make her mad. Papi’s way more chill. Then there’s my older siblings, Alejandro--I nicknamed my future self after him because they’re both serious but caring, and Alejandro’s always been like my best friend until I met Hunk, Novia, and Zelia. Then there’s me, and then the twins Edmundo and Fernan. After that is Mariposa--Mola reminds me of her, and little Lur.”

 

As he talked, he could feel the painful homesickness and constant worry for his family easing a bit. He told Keith about his aunts and uncles and all his cousins, the perpetual disagreements between some of them and the way that if any outsider came for any member of the McClain-Martinez household they came for them all. He described setting up the plastic tables in the yard that everyone squeezed around for family get-togethers and teaching the little ones how to swim in the ocean. He talked about everyone pulling together to support each other when times were hard and sharing with others when they were good. How they whole family had teamed up to scrape together the funds to send him to Arizona to take the Garrison entrance exams, and how they’d thrown a huge party that swept up the whole neighbourhood when his results came back and he’d got in.

 

He knew he was smiling through tears as he talked, and through it all Keith’s arm never left his shoulders, the other paladin listening intently as though committing every detail to memory. Any other time Lance might have been flustered by the proximity and attention, but right now he was simply grateful for the company and someone to listen. Eventually he wound down, sighing softly and staring up at the painted border of alien animals just below the ceiling.

 

“What about you?” He asked suddenly, turning to look at Keith. The other had listened to him ramble for what must’ve been hours, the least he could do was return the favour. “What’s your family like?”

 

The way the shorter teen stiffened and pulled away told him immediately he shouldn’t have asked. Dark eyes shuttered as Keith looked away, hiding behind long dark bangs. “...Don’t have one.” He stated tersely after a moment’s pause.

 

Lance’s mouth dropped open in horror. The idea of not having someone… “No family at all?” He pressed. He knew he should probably leave the obviously sensitive topic alone, but Keith opening up was such a rarity he couldn’t help but jump on the chance to know more about the other.

 

Thankfully, Keith didn’t seem to be shutting him out completely, as he gave a short, sharp shake of his head. “Foster care since I was six. Shiro’s basically a brother to me, the closest thing I’ve ever had to a family since then.” He stared down at his lap and scratched the sleeping cub gently behind the ears, eliciting a soft purr of contentment.

 

“Shit. That...that sucks, Keith.” Was all Lance managed to get out, and it didn’t nearly do justice to how he felt about this whole thing. He’d heard horror stories about the foster system, and if Keith’s assigned mentor when he arrived at the Garrison had ended up being the closest thing he’d had to family, then what did that say about the homes he’d been in. He made a strangled noise as he realized what Kerberos must’ve meant to the other teen, with Shiro declared dead. “No wonder you and Pidge get along so well.”

 

Keith stared at him for a moment in confusion before he seemed to manage to follow Lance’s train of thought and nodded. “You know how I got expelled for ‘discipline issues’?” At the blue paladin’s nod, he continued, “I punched Iverson in the throat for claiming that Shiro fucked up and got them all killed.”

 

Lance burst out laughing. “Man, I wish I could’ve seen that. What an asshole.” He saw Keith’s tentative smile and grinned back. “If it helps, I never believed it. Just didn’t make any sense how he could go from ‘best the Garrison ever produced’ to ‘failure to compare students to when they crash the simulator’. I was on the receiving end of that one a lot.” He clarified at the red paladin’s confused look. “He also liked reminding me that I only got bumped up to fighter class because you left.”

 

“Jackass.” Keith nodded understandingly, some of the tension gone now. “You’re a good pilot. He wasn’t taking into account that you were still adjusting from the cargo simulator controls to the fighter ones, was he?”

 

The blue paladin blinked in surprise. “Now that you mention it, probably not. The controls are really different, too, since you’re solo on cargo flights instead of having a full crew. And they handle differently.”

 

Keith bumped shoulders with him and gave him a small, oddly proud smile that set Lance’s heart fluttering and made his cheeks burn. “See? There you go. Adjustment period handicap. Iverson was just being petty as hell. And you kick all kinds of ass flying Blue.”

 

Okay, he was  _ definitely _ blushing now. “You think so? I mean, the others are probably harder to fly, because Red’s faster, Black’s bigger, Yellow’s heavier, and Green’s smaller. Blue’s just kinda...average.” He looked away, his insecurities rearing their ugly head again. How many times had he mentally put his Lion beside the others and felt somehow inadequate?

 

“Stop that.” Now Keith was frowning at him, shit. “Blue’s maneuverable as hell and I’ve seen the way you make use of that in a fight. She takes less damage than any of the others most of the time, even though, like you said, Red is faster and Green is smaller. You’re  _ good _ at what you do, sharpshooter, so quit selling yourself short all the time.”

 

Lance floundered, unable to respond to the blunt praise. He’d spent years comparing himself to Keith, both at the Garrison and out here in space, and yet here was the object of his admiration and affections telling him in no uncertain terms that he’d seen Lance fly and he thought that Lance was good. It was a heady feeling that he wasn’t used to. And he’d noticed Lance’s tendency to pick at himself, which was embarrassing rather than pleasant. “...When did you get such a way with words, mullet?” He asked, trying to turn the attention away from himself.

 

It was Keith’s turn to blush now, fidgeting with his gloves uncertainly. “I’m not, really. I just...say what makes sense to me at the time. Go with my gut. It kinda gets me in trouble a lot of the time, like with Iverson. And my foster homes, a few times.” He didn’t elaborate on that, and Lance didn’t pry.

 

“Well, it was…it was really sweet. What you said, I mean. It helped a lot. So thanks.” Lance brought his knees up to his chest and hugged them, staring fixedly at an invisible point on the far wall. “I’ve always looked up to you.” He admitted awkwardly. After everything else they’d shared today and before, this shouldn’t be so difficult. “So hearing you say that...it meant a lot.”

 

The red paladin looked baffled, but pleased. “I’m glad. I...don’t like seeing you sad.” He said quietly, rubbing at a scuff on the armor covering his thigh.

 

“Same.” Lance said quietly. “You know...you do have a family now, you know that, right? All of us, Allura, Coran, heck, even the mice and Kurogane and Alejandro, we’re a family. We’re here for you, just like my family back in Veradero Beach is there for me. You’re not alone anymore.”

 

Keith’s head whipped around so fast for a moment Lance worried he’d hurt himself, staring at the blue paladin with wide eyes. He seemed to be searching for something in the Cuban’s face and posture for a long moment before he nodded slowly. “I...yeah. I knew that.” His tone said otherwise, though, and Lance was glad he’d taken the time to point it out. He knew from experience that Keith had a tendency to miss what wasn’t stated explicitly, even if it was obvious to everyone else.

 

“Yeah. So don’t worry.” Lance shot him a reassuring smile, putting an arm around the startled teen’s shoulders. “And when we do get back to Earth, I’ll take you to visit my family, and they’ll adopt you on the spot just like they did when they met Hunk the first time.” He could already picture it, and the idea of giving his lonely teammate so many people who cared about him was worth knowing that his family would undoubtedly tease him relentlessly after hearing him complain about the other for years.

 

“I...okay.” The Korean whispered quietly, leaning slightly into the touch to Lance’s surprise. His smile softened, and they simply sat like that for a while, watching over a room full of sleeping children and enjoying the closeness.

 

The tranquility was abruptly shattered as the door opened behind them, and they jumped apart with both their faces painted scarlet.

 

“Thank you for watching the cubs today.” Loten, the Altean who was normally in charge of the nursery and who had asked for their help that morning with the ship left short-handed by emergency scouting missions, bowed low with a grateful smile. “I hope they weren’t too much trouble.”

 

“No! No, not at all!” Lance exclaimed, jumping to his feet and returning the bow. “They were great. I spent like half the day telling them stories until they all started to fall asleep. Well, besides that one.” He pointed at Keith, still trapped under the sleeping cub. “He’s barely stirred all day.”

 

Loten laughed, reaching down to gently disentangle the little one’s claws from Keith’s suit. “Yes, he does that. Galra spend a lot of time sleeping when they’re this young, although he usually only cuddles like that with Galra caretakers.”

 

“I’m half Galra.” Keith admitted nervously. Loten lifted the child free of his lap, settling him on one shoulder, and the red paladin groaned in relief, slowly straightening first one leg and then the other and hissing as circulation was restored to both legs.

 

“That would do it.” The Altean nodded, giving him a sympathetic look as the Korean massaged his legs gingerly between the armor plates. “Do you need help getting up?” Keith hesitated, then gave an embarrassed nod, allowing the taller man to grab his hand and hoist him easily to his feet. He wobbled a little, and both Loten and Lance reached out to steady him. “Easy now.”

 

Keith brushed off their hands, blushing. “If we’re done here for the day, I think I’m gonna go visit Red. Later, Lance.” He quickly darted out the door, leaving a confused Loten and bewildered Lance in his wake. The blue paladin sighed. He was never going to figure out what went on in that boy’s head.

 

_________

 

Keith jogged down the passages of the Long Wind, letting the familiar pull of his Lion guide him back to the hangar through the crowded corridors. Much of the ship was still unfamiliar, since they spent most of their time in either the cafeteria or the hangar, but as long as he headed toward Red he would get back to familiar territory.

 

He knew he should probably check in with the others, but right now all he wanted was to take Red out to clear his head. The events of the last few hours kept playing in his mind, Lance’s sad, lonely expression as he talked about the family he had left behind on earth, his awestruck blush at Keith’s encouragement, the small happy smile as they’d sat together in silence. So many facets of Lance that were rarely seen. It was hard to take in that he’d been privileged with that look at the young man under the ever-present smile, and he was almost overwhelmed by everything he’d learned.

 

Red was waiting with her ramp already down as he reached the hangar and he trotted up it immediately, tapping open a com link to the control room before he’d even sat down. “Taking Red out for a run.” He said without preamble. Thankfully the Taujeerian manning the com seemed to sense his reluctance to chat and simply nodded, touching the controls for the hangar door. The Lion could clearly feel his impatience and darted out before the doors had even slid fully open, pouring on the speed in a straight line away from both ships.

 

Keith closed his eyes and focused on seeing through Red’s, pushing the throttles to their stops as they tore across open space. The stars flashed by like something out of a movie he vaguely remembered seeing once when he was younger, the streaking pattern calming him steadily.

 

Except that they seemed to be flashing by much faster than they usually did when he did this.

 

His eyes snapped open as Red laughed in the back of his head. A screen had popped open in front of him, a systems diagram of the Lion. A section of her shoulders was lit up, with an indicator label that read simply ‘ion boosters’, connected to a sleek section of hardware that hadn’t been there last time he’d actually looked at her. “How the hell…”

 

His Lion laughed again, nudging part of his memories from earlier.

 

_ “I...don’t like seeing you sad.” _

 

_ “...When did you get such a way with words, mullet?” _

 

_ “I’m not, really. I just...say what makes sense to me at the time. Go with my gut” _

 

_ “Hearing you say that...it meant a lot.” _

 

Keith groaned, feeling his cheeks heating up all over again. “Seriously? That’s how I unlock instinct?  _ That _ ?” He could feel Red’s amusement as she reminded him that no matter how reluctant he was to admit it, Lance was very important to him, so it only made sense that he would subconsciously see the blue paladin’s sadness as a major problem. And he’d gone with his instincts on how to solve it. Thus, the aspect.

 

The red paladin swore, banging his head against the console. “Man, Shiro is never, ever gonna let me live this down.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a note, the headcanon about Keith's dietary needs was respectfully adopted from Allawander on tumblr. Go check out their blog, they have incredible headcanon stuff!
> 
> Finally, enjoy the fluff while it lasts.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for this chapter which is also a slight spoiler! Minor character death and major character injury, offscreen but discussed, and grief/mourning onscreen. If you're not comfortable with that, stop reading when Pidge becomes the narrator and jump down to the bottom notes for a summary of that section.
> 
> Let's see how many of you still like me after this chapter. XD

In retrospect, Hunk thought fuzzily as the room spun violently around him, a year of training with Allura  _ really _ should have clued him in to the fact that the Altean definition of ‘light sparring’ and the Human one were really not even in the same galaxy when it came to interpretation.

 

“Great...Ennan, what did you  _ do?! _ ”

 

“Alti, we were just….”

 

“...concussed him right through...sturdy as Alteans, you....contact the medical bay, ask for…”

 

The unfamiliar voices faded in and out, drowned out by the obnoxious ringing noise that wouldn’t seem to go away. The spinning was making him feel sick and he groaned, closing his eyes.

 

“Hey, don’t...okay?” A gentle touch to his face startled him and he blinked his eyes open, trying to focus on the face in front of him and not quite succeeding. The person was still talking, he realized muddily as he watched their mouth open and closed, and with an effort he managed to concentrate enough to catch the end of their sentence. “...knows the most about Human medical needs. He’ll be here soon.”

 

Hunk frowned hazily. Why did he feel like that sentence shouldn’t make sense? Before he could chase it down he lost track of the thought.

 

A commotion at the door caught his attention and he tried to turn to look, but a wave of dizziness met the motion and he doubled over, retching, and quickly shut his eyes again. Faintly he heard several sets of footsteps approaching.

 

“...happened?”

 

“ _ Ennan _ happened.  _ Again _ .”

 

“Who…”

 

“...paladins, the yellow one. He’s concussed, I…”

 

Someone was kneeling in front of him again, not the same person. Careful hands were pulling his helmet off, which oddly didn’t seem to do anything to alleviate the pressure. There was a loud crack of something being dropped that made him wince, and a startled exclamation.

 

“That’s a Human!”

 

“Yes? That’s why…”

 

“...no one think... _ Vrekt _ . Later. Someone find...medical. Need to do some scans,...Ennan?”

 

“On it.”

 

Other hands, slightly less gentle, were carefully slotted under his knees and shoulders and Hunk felt himself being lifted. His stomach protested, but he managed not to throw up again, resting his head against the shoulder of the person carrying him. He wasn’t sure how long it lasted before he was being set down again, this time on something soft and comfortable.

 

The ringing seemed to be subsiding finally, allowing him to hear complete sentences. 

 

“Go find combat instructor Hellfin, Ennan, and get him to make up a list of people you’re allowed to spar with until you can remember to control your strength. I need to make sure you haven’t done this guy any permanent damage.” Someone, presumably the speaker, was arranging a device beside his head.

 

The other person--Ennan?--sounded chagrined. “Yeah. Okay. Tell him sorry for me?”

 

There was a grunt of acknowledgement and the sound of footsteps, then a touch to Hunk’s shoulder. “If you can understand me, can you open your eyes for me? Need to check your pupils.” The teen opened them obediently and made a sound of discomfort at the bright lights in the room. His vision was clearer, and he caught a flash of orange hair as the doctor shone a light in his eyes. “Good pupillary response...no skull trauma...How are you feeling? Pain? Nausea? Any ringing or dizziness?”

 

It took the yellow paladin several seconds to process the words. “Head hurts...less dizzy now. Ringing stopped.” He squinted against the lingering blurriness. The man in front of him looked familiar, but his brain was still not cooperating fully enough to tell him why.

 

“Hmm...still a bit out of it, I see. I’ll give you something for the pain.” Hunk watched the other turn away to get something from a storage cabinet, trying to marshal his jumbled thoughts. Ginger hair, pale skin. When he turned back to administer a shot of something, Hunk could see one white eye and one amber in a freckled face. That was important, he thought, but the reason was dancing tantalizingly out of reach.

 

A knock at the door startled them. “It’s Alti,” the person on the other side called. “I brought the black paladin like you asked.”

 

“Door’s open!” The medic called back, prodding the control panel for the scanner again.

 

There was a faint whooshing noise as the door opened and Shiro entered. “Hunk, are you--” He stopped dead, staring at the man who’d been looking after Hunk, eyes wide and mouth dropped. The man turned and staggered in shock, the device he’d been holding dropping to the floor with a clatter.

 

There was a long pause, both Shiro and the other man staring at each other. Hunk looked between them in confusion. Dammit, he was sure he should know who that was, the stupid fogginess of the concussion wasn’t clearing fast enough--

 

“ _ Matt? _ ”

 

Oh. That’s who.

 

_________

 

“Black Paladin!” Shiro’s head snapped up in response to the shout, eyes landing on the pink-haired Altean woman trotting across the hangar toward him with an anxious expression on her face. “Black Paladin, come with me, please, there’s been a slight accident with one of your paladins.”

 

Shiro felt a thrill of fear run through him, and he was on his feet in an instant, gesturing for her to lead the way. “What happened? Who’s hurt?” He asked, unable to stop him from imagining all the trouble those kids could have gotten into here. Had Keith got into a fight with someone? Lance accidentally offended someone and paid the price for it? Pidge gotten into somewhere she shouldn’t?

 

“A sparring accident, the Yellow Paladin.” The Altean pursed her lips in remembered irritation at something as they jogged through the corridors of the ship. “He accepted a sparring invitation from Ennan, and we didn’t notice until he’d accidentally concussed the poor boy. We called a doctor and he’s been taken to medical.”

 

Shiro stumbled in surprise. Hunk was the one hurt? To be honest, Hunk was probably the last person he would’ve expected to have a mishap, but the circumstances made sense. “Does this sort of thing happen often?” He asked cautiously, making a mental note to warn the others about being careful who they sparred with.

 

“Only when Ennan is involved.” She scowled. “He can never remember to watch his strength when he’s sparring with non-Alteans. This isn’t the first time he’s injured someone by mistake. Through here.” She took a sharp left turn past another water wall and entered an area of the ship that was obviously medical, with labelled examination rooms on either side of the wide corridor. Stopping in front of one of them, she knocked loudly. “It’s Alti. I brought the Black Paladin like you asked.” she called.

 

There was a muffled response that Alti’s ears obviously heard better than his did, because she palmed the scanner and the door whooshed open. Shiro quickly pushed his way inside, worried for the teen. “Hunk, are you--” he stopped short, jaw going slack, as he caught sight of the occupants of the room. Hunk was laying on a medical cot, looking a little dazed and confused, but with no other obvious signs of injury. And standing next to him, staring back at Shiro like he’d just seen a ghost…

 

Pale, freckled skin. A mop of ginger hair, the exact shade of Pidge’s. One eye that was a startling shade of amber, and one that was white where four parallel scars sliced diagonally across it from temple to chin. That so-familiar face, looking older and wearier than when he’d last seen it over two years ago, and currently white as a sheet as the other stared back at him.

 

“ _ Matt? _ ” He whispered hoarsely, taking a hesitant step forward and reaching for the other man uncertainly.

 

Matt was looking at him as though he’d seen a ghost. “T...Takashi?” His voice was soft and almost scared, as though afraid of breaking some fragile illusion, and god, Shiro’s chest ached at the sound of his voice. “Takashi, is...is it really you?”

 

Shiro swallowed thickly and nodded, his heart pounding in his chest. “Yeah. It’s me, Matt. I’m here.”

 

There was a sharp intake of breath and then suddenly the black paladin found himself with his arms full of one Matthew Holt, thin arms winding tightly around his midsection and face pressed to his chest. Shiro was quick to wrap his arms around the trembling form of his friend, burying his face in the ginger hair with a ragged breath of his own and holding him as though he would never let go. He could feel tears on his cheeks, blurring his vision, and could hear Matt sobbing into his chest plate, hands clutching at Shiro’s undersuit.

 

“I thought...god, I thought you were  _ dead _ , Takashi.” The words came out in a harsh sob, muffled by Shiro’s armor, and it broke his heart. Of course he would have thought that, given the way they’d last seen each other, Matt being dragged out of the arena with his leg sliced open and Shiro staring down Myzax with Matt’s blood on an unfamiliar blade in his hand. “I thought you died and I was never going to see you again.”

 

“No, Matt, I made it. I survived. I lived. I’m here.” The older man tearfully murmured a litany of reassurances into the other’s hair, one hand coming up to cradle the back of Matt’s head while the other rubbed gentle circles on his back as he tried to comfort him. “I’m okay, I’m here, I’ve got you.”

 

They stayed like that for a while, holding each other close, until Matt’s ragged cries subsided and Shiro’s tears had tapered off to sniffles and red-rimmed eyes. The younger Human pulled back slightly, gazing up at Shiro with a smile of relief and desperate joy that set Shiro’s heart pounding all over again. “God, I...I can’t believe it. You’re here. You’re really here.”

 

“I am.” Shiro smiled back, giddy with happiness. “We’ve been looking all over for you, Matt. Have you been here the whole time?” 

 

The freckled male shook his head. “Not the whole time,” he explained. “I’ve been on the Long Wind for about…” He thought for a moment, calculating. “...a third of a cycle. Before that, I spent about three-quarters of a cycle on a ship called the Boiling Rock after they captured the prisoner transport ship I was on. I don’t know what that works out to in months. Or how long it’s been.” His eyes flickered away uncomfortably. “I...lost track of time in the prison, and I don’t know how cycles and years compare.”

 

Shiro nodded understandingly, doing the math in his head. “Don’t worry, I had the same problem. A cycle is something like fourteen and a half months, if I remember right. Kerberos was a bit over two years ago.” He regarded Matt thoughtfully, giving him a gentle smile. “If my math is right, you got out before I did. I’m glad. It means you’ve been safe all this time.”

 

Matt snorted, smiling back. “As safe as one can be on a resistance ship, anyway. What about you? How did you escape? When did you get here? Who’s that other Human with you? How did they get out here?”

 

“Whoah, one question at a time, Matt. You haven’t changed a bit.” There was deep relief in Shiro’s tone when he said it. Though he’d never admitted it, he’d been deeply afraid of what they might find when they located the Holts, that they might be broken beyond repair and changed beyond recognition. But Matt’s rapid-fire questions were so familiar that for a moment, it was as if they were back at the Garrison with his friend interrogating him about some meeting or new simulation. “I was freed by a Galra from a resistance group called the Blade of Marmora, about a year after Kerberos. I was sent back to Earth, but ended up going back into space with four other Humans and becoming the paladins of Voltron.” He laughed sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s a really long story. And how we found the Long Wind is even longer.”

 

“There are five of you? Five Humans, I mean.” There was a longing ache in Matt’s voice that made Shiro pause in surprise before he realized that it would have been years since Matt saw another Human being.

 

“Yes. Well, seven now. Like I said, very long story, it’d probably take an hour or two. There’s me, Alejandro, Kurogane, Hunk--the one with the concussion,” he nodded to the yellow paladin, who was sitting up now and watching them both with a happy smile and looking much less dazed, Alti sitting beside him with a curious expression, “Lance, Keith--you remember him from the Garrison--and Pidge.” He smiled mischievously. “Although her you might know better as Katie.”

 

Matt let out a strangled noise, eyes wide in shock. “Katie? As in my little sister Katie? Is here? In space?” He sounded as though he might burst into tears again.

 

“She is.” Shiro nodded, hugging Matt tightly again. “She never believed the Garrison for a second when they claimed we were dead. Nearly got arrested for breaking in and hacking their computers, so she enrolled under a fake name to keep looking for proof. She happened to be there when I landed, ended up coming with us, and she’s been putting the fear of Holt into the Galra ever since.”

 

His friend let out a wet-sounding laugh against his chest. “Yeah, that sounds like her. Where is she? I want to see her.”

 

“She should still be in the hangar, I think. If Hunk’s doing okay, we can head down there.”

 

“Right, right. Doctoring first, tearful reunions after. Sorry, Hunk. I got sidetracked there, didn’t I?” Matt gave the yellow paladin an apologetic smile as he reluctantly stepped back from Shiro.

 

Hunk waved off the apology cheerfully. “Dude, you have nothing to apologize for, like, at all. If I just found my friend that I thought was dead for two years I’d be putting everything else on hold for a few minutes too. And I’m feeling fine, now, anyway. No more dizziness, and no pain.” He grimaced. “Remind me not to spar with that guy again, though.”

 

Matt rolled his eyes. “You’re not the first person to end up in medical because of him. I told him to get the combat instructor to make a list of acceptable sparring partners for him.” He helped Hunk down off the medical bed, Alti hopping down as well once he was on his feet. “Thank you for your help, Alti.” The Human said warmly.

 

“My pleasure, Matt.” She gave him a knowing smile, eyes flicking to Shiro for a moment and then back to Matt. “I need to be getting back to work. Good hunting.” With that, she was out the door, leaving the three Humans alone.

 

“Come on, let’s go find Pidge. She’s gonna freak when she sees you.” Hunk seemed just as excited for the impending reunion as Shiro was, and the black paladin was pleased to see the way Matt’s face lit up at the reminder that his beloved sister was here as well. The yellow paladin led the way out of the room and down the hall, obviously feeling much better judging by the brisk pace he set.

 

“Sorry, can you slow down a bit?” Matt’s voice was strained, and Shiro realized with alarm that the shorter male had lagged behind almost immediately. His heart sank as he looked closer and realized the reason: a pronounced limp, the ginger visibly favouring his left knee. The one Shiro had sliced open that day in the arena.

 

“Matt, your leg…” He faltered, feeling sick. He hadn’t meant to injure Matt that badly, to permanently impair him like this.

 

Mat must have read his emotions in his face, because he shook his head firmly. “It wasn’t your fault, Takashi. The original injury would have healed fine, but working in the mine made it worse. It wasn’t anything you did.”

 

“Still, I...if I hadn’t hurt you in the first place…” 

 

“Stop that.” Suddenly Matt had his Shiro’s face in his hands, staring him right in the eyes with a confidence that caught the taller man completely off guard. “When you cut my leg, you saved my life by keeping me out of the arena. Don’t ever forget that. I certainly haven’t.” The Japanese male felt as though the wind had been knocked out of him by Matt’s calm understanding and acceptance. All he could do was nod, tears pricking at the corner of his eyes in response to an unspoken forgiveness he wasn’t sure he deserved. The other regarded him steadily for a moment longer before letting him go with a soft smile and linking his arm with Shiro’s. “Now come on. Let’s go find my sister.”

 

__________

 

Green’s mental nudge brought Pidge out of her meditative trance to the sound of voices in the hallway outside the hangar. First Shiro, saying something too muffled to make out (when had he left, she wondered), and then Hunk asking a question that she only caught the end of as footsteps came closer, echoing in the corridor.

 

“...didn’t know about us?”

 

“I knew Voltron was on board, and I’d seen you from a distance a few times, but with the armor and helmets I only knew you were a humanoid species. Given that the Lions were supposed to have been built by the Alteans, I assumed that’s what you were, and nobody thought to tell me otherwise. Guess they all assumed I already knew.”

 

The air seemed to catch in her throat. That third voice didn’t belong to any of her teammates, but she’d know it anywhere, under any circumstances. Praying desperately that she wasn’t wrong, that she hadn’t misheard, she scrambled to her feet just as three figures turned the corner into the hangar. For half a second she had a perfect, crystal-clear view. Hunk on one side, Shiro on the other, and between them, limping and scarred but smiling easily as his head swivelled to scan the hangar,  _ Matt _ .

 

Then his eyes landed on her and the lopsided smile became a blinding grin, arms instantly spreading to welcome her. “ _ Katie! _ ”

 

Her vision blurred instantly with what she distantly realized were tears, and then she was moving, sprinting headlong across the open length of the hangar with her brother’s name tumbling from her lips like a shouted prayer, echoed by Green’s jubilant roar. “MattMattMattOhmygod _ Matt! _ ”

 

She hit him full speed with enough force to knock the wind out of them both, and only Hunk’s quick reflexes kept the pair of them from hitting the ground as she buried her face in Matt’s shirt, clutching him tightly and still chanting his name through tears of desperate relief. She could feel his arms around her, hear his teary, joyful whisper of “yes, Katie, I’m here, I’m right here, you found me”, feel his heart pounding in his chest against her cheek. He was here, he was really here, he was safe, she found him, she had her brother back after two long, lonely years.

 

She cried herself out in his arms with his hand stroking her hair and his voice humming softly in her ear, just like she used to do when she was younger and had a nightmare or got too stressed, and it was just so familiar and safe it almost made her start crying all over again. Eventually, though, she was reduced to hiccupping sniffles and lifted her head to stare up at Matt’s equally tear-streaked face. “It’s you. You’re really here.” She breathed.

 

“It is, and I am.” Matt responded with an affectionate grin that was achingly familiar as he stared back at her. “God, I missed you so much. You’ve gotten so big! Love the hair.” He commented.

 

“Missed you too, loser.” She grinned back wetly, scrubbing at her running nose with the back of her wrist. “You better love it, seeing as I cut it as part of my plan to avenge your sorry butt. Disguised myself as a boy, Pidge Gunderson, and enrolled at the Garrison as a cadet in order to have better access to their computers for hacking.”

 

Matt gave her a disbelieving look. “And they bought that, despite you looking exactly like a shorter version of me?”

 

Pidge shrugged, grinning. “Well, they were also dumb enough to think people would buy ‘pilot error’ as the reason for the Kerberos mission going silent, so it’s really not that surprising.”

 

“Pilot error?!” Matt exclaimed, looking outraged. He glanced up at an embarrassed Shiro with a thunderous expression. “Un-fucking-believable. Remind me to kick  _ so _ much ass when we get back to Earth. Bunch of jackasses.”

 

Off to the side, Hunk burst out laughing. “I see Pidge’s mouth runs in the family.” He teased, elbowing Shiro whose expression had gone from slightly mortified to a resigned eyeroll at the yellow paladin’s comment.

 

Pidge sniggered, sticking her tongue out at Shiro. “Sort of? We get it from our mom. Dad’s the kinda guy who excuses himself for saying ‘heck’.” Her eyes lit up and she turned back to Matt quickly, hope flaring in her chest. “Speaking of Dad, is he here too? Do you know where to find him?” Maybe, just maybe, she’d have her family back together again soon.

 

Matt froze. His smile vanished in an instant, replaced by something guilty and pained that made something inside her twist sickeningly.

 

“Matt?” She whispered, a desperate note in her voice. Why wasn’t he answering? Where was their dad? Why was he looking at her like his heart was breaking? Shiro’s smile had turned into something alarmed and anxious, and Hunk looked confused and scared.

 

“Katie...I...I’m sorry.” Matt whispered, pulling her close again, hiding his face in her shoulder as he hugged her tightly. His voice was raw with guilt and grief, and she could feel him shaking against her. “I’m so sorry, Katie. I tried to protect him. I really did. I’m so sorry.”

 

Her heart seemed to drop out of the bottom of her chest. No. Nonono. This wasn’t supposed to happen. She was supposed to find them, both of them, take them home, be a family again. She wasn’t supposed to lose them, either of them.  _ This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. _

 

A harsh sob ripped itself from her throat, an agonized cry of denial and despair. There were tears on her face, her breath coming in ragged gasps between her cries. She was faintly aware of Shiro’s arms around them both, his tears falling on her hair, Hunk trying to hug all three of them to offer whatever comfort he could. But all she could concentrate on was the brutal knowledge that her father was gone, forever. That she would never see him again no matter how far across the universe she travelled, no matter how many worlds she liberated or prisoners she freed or Galra Empire soldiers she killed.

 

The thought made Pidge still for a moment, and she fought to find her voice. She needed to know. “How did it happen?” She asked, voice cracking painfully. “Please, Matt, tell me what happened.”

 

She felt her brother shift against her as he swallowed harshly, pulling back slightly so he could see her face. His eyes were red-rimmed and swollen from crying, and he seemed to struggle to find the words. 

 

“He...he got sick.” Matt said finally, slowly. “The world we were on was cold and wet and it rained all the time, and we were always exhausted from working in the mines. A lot of prisoners got sick, all the time. Dad was...older. More vulnerable. It was pneumonia, I think. Hard to be sure with no way to do tests.” He gave a ragged laugh that had no humor in it at all. “Not like it mattered. The guards didn’t care what you were sick with. They only cared whether or not you could work.”

 

He paused, licking dry lips with a painfully faraway look on his face, and the hangar was so silent you could hear a pin drop as Pidge stared up at her brother, who looked decades older than he should in that moment. “Eventually….eventually Dad got too sick to work. He couldn’t get up when they came to take us to the mine in the morning. I only understood a few words of Galran at that point, enough to follow basic commands. But ‘get up or I’ll shoot you’ is pretty universal.”

 

“I tried to protect him.” He continued, expression distant. “Tried to get between him and the guard. Just pissed them off. One of them,” His hand came up to trace along the four scars that slashed across his face, faint white lines against pale skin, and Pidge felt sick with the realization a moment before he said it, “clawed my face open, for disrespect, I think. And then…” Matt inhaled, a sharp, shaky breath. “They made me watch as they shot him, then sent me to the mines without even a chance to say goodbye.”

 

“God, Matt…” It was Shiro’s voice that broke the agonized silence that followed the older ginger’s story. The black paladin looked devastated in a way that Pidge couldn’t recall ever having seen on his face before, an expression out of place on the face of a man who usually faced any crisis or disaster with outward confidence and calm acceptance.

 

Then again, she was sure the barely contained fury she felt probably looked equally unnerving on her own face.

 

“They’ll pay for that.” She declared, voice tight with the anger burning in her gut. She could feel three pairs of eyes on her, shock and concern in all their faces, could feel the pressure of Green’s anxious touch in the back of her head. “What they did to you, Matt, and what they did to dad. We’ll make them pay, I swear it.”

 

“Pidge…” Shiro’s voice was heavy with sadness and concern, one hand landing on her shoulder as if to restrain her.

 

“ _ Don’t _ , Shiro.” The green paladin snapped, all but smacking his hand away to the other’s visible shock and Hunk’s startled exclamation, Green backing her with a snarl from the far side of the hangar. “They  _ tortured _ Matt, doing that. They killed Dad. I know it won’t change anything,” she added quickly, forestalling another interruption from the older man. She took a deep breath. “I know he’s g-gone.” She forced the words out, even though the fact had only just barely begun to sink in, a deep, aching hole in her heart that she could already sense would never heal. “I’m never going to see him again, and the only thing I can do for him is make sure that the bastards who took him from me and hurt my brother  _ pay _ . So either help me or  _ get out of my way. _ ”

 

There was a long silence, no one speaking. Then, finally, Shiro stepped back, dark eyes staring at her with a sharp nod that made Pidge sag with relief.

 

“Fine.” The black paladin said softly, a sorrowful understanding crossing his face, and she knew that he understood, that need for closure, to do the only thing left that she could do for her lost family. “We’ll avenge your father when we can. I promise. I don’t know how we’ll find the world they were on, but--”

 

“Chalthus.”

 

Both Pidge and Shiro’s heads snapped around to look at Matt, who was regarding them both with an intense expression that looked even more jarring on him than Shiro’s devastated grief had seemed. A mix of gratitude, determination, cold eagerness. She’d never even imagined her brother could look like that, but she could hardly blame him after everything he’d told them. The Galra had changed Shiro, of course they’d changed her brother too. “It was called Chalthus.” He repeated. “A mining moon around a gas giant. I asked, once, after I finally learned enough Galran to communicate properly. I planned to go back there someday. Find that fucking guard and…” he trailed off, fists clenching at his sides. “Chalthus.” He said again, voice rough.

 

Hunk frowned, narrowing his eyes uncertainly. “Chalthus? Why do I feel like I’ve heard that name before?” He questioned, looking between Matt and his two teammates.

 

Pidge’s eyes widened. “Because you  _ have _ .” She breathed, fury boiling up in her gut all over again. “Kurogane and Alejandro. They asked if we’d been to Chalthus yet, when we were figuring out how long we had to prepare. They knew. They fucking  _ knew _ .” She was yelling now, hands shaking, words tumbling out of her mouth practically on top of each other. “They knew Dad was dead, that he’d died on Chalthus, ‘memorable mission’  _ my fucking ass _ , that was when they found out, they said they lived on the Long Wind for a while, they  _ had _ to have known Matt was here and they never fucking said anything, about any of it, about Dad or Matt, goddamn them, why the fuck didn’t they say anything--”

 

“ _ Breathe _ , Katie.” Suddenly there were gentle arms around her and she gasped, realizing that she was almost hyperventilating from her frantic tirade. She forced herself to pull air into her lungs, an almost automatic response to her brother’s gentle coaching. Only once her breathing had steadied did Matt relax his grip on her, moving to gently grasp her shoulders instead and looking her in the eye. “Now, I’m still missing most of the story on how you all got here, so I’m not sure what exactly you’re talking about. But if you say these two should have known I was here and didn’t tell you, then dammit, I want some answers too.”

 

Pidge took a deep breath and nodded, reining in her anger and letting it simmer for now. “Call a team meeting, Shiro.” She demanded sharply, looking up at the black paladin. To the side, Hunk nodded in grim agreement. All her worries over the last few days about how much the two time-travellers were sharing, what they knew and what they didn’t and what they thought they knew but might be entirely wrong about, were back at the forefront of her mind, screaming to be addressed. “Whatever their reasons, those two have been hiding too much for long enough. It’s time for them to start talking.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Summary for the section I warned about:  
> Pidge and Matt have a tearful reunion, and Matt learns briefly about Pidge sneaking into the Garrison and why. Pidge asks Matt if he knows where their father is. She learns that he died several months after capture on a mining planet when he became ill, and Matt was injured trying to protect him from the guards. She vows revenge on the guards on that planet, and Matt tells her it was a world called Chalthus. Realizing that Alejandro and Kurogane mentioned Chalthus on the first day, she determines to demand answers about why they didn't tell her about her father's fate or her brother's presence on the ship.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings/spoilers for this chapter: See that big bolded archive warning for major character death? This is the chapter where that really comes into play. If that makes you uncomfortable, skip to the bottom notes for a timeline summary.
> 
> Buckle up, naughty children, it's emotional devastation time.

It was almost like that first early morning nine rotations ago all over again, Allura mused as she surveyed the small common room they had commandeered for their meeting. Nearly everyone present, waiting impatiently for the last two arrivals so they could learn what exactly was going on. But this time it was Kurogane and Alejandro they were waiting for, and Pidge was the one pacing in agitation between the couches, and there was one more person present than before, the long lost Matthew Holt seated on one of the couches, Shiro on one side and a space for his sister on the other.

 

When Shiro had collected her from a training session with Malrento, wearing an unaccountably serious expression on his face as he told her he was calling an emergency team meeting, the last thing she had expected to see was the previously-missing Holt sibling sitting with the other paladins and being given a hasty briefing on the situation prior to the impending discussion. And when she learned he’d apparently been on this ship the entire time they’d been here, well...she was beginning to understand the reason for the meeting. The time-travellers’ evasiveness had well and truly crossed a line. Had they somehow not known? Or had they known and deliberately failed to mention the fact that they knew the fate of their teammate’s family?

 

Her ears twitched at the sound of footsteps in the hallway, startling Allura out of her musings. Her head snapped up toward the doorway, drawing the attention of everyone else in the room and stilling all conversation into a tense silence. Kurogane and Alejandro stepped into the room and immediately stopped dead at the emotionally charged atmosphere, their posture shifting subtly to a defensive stance. While their expressions didn’t change, still showing confusion and uncertainty, Allura could see the wariness in the way they carried themselves in the face of the group staring them down.

 

“Sit.” Pidge snapped, pointing at the third, empty couch across from Hunk, Shiro, Matt, and Lance. “We need to have a talk.”

 

The two exchanged glances, a silent conversation, before moving to sit where the green paladin had indicated. As they did so, Alejandro caught sight of Matt. He blinked, looking between the two Holts rapidly before his mouth dropped open in shock. Pidge stepped in front of him, interrupting his line of sight, before he could speak.

 

“Would you care to explain to me,” She began with a tone as cold as Blue’s ice blast, “why, in the  _ nine days _ since you got here, neither of you thought to mention ‘oh, by the way, Pidge! You know that brother of yours that you’ve been searching all of space for? He’s on the Long Wind! The ship we’ve been visiting every single day for the last eight!’” If looks could kill, both time travellers would have burst into flame then and there. “Not to mention fucking _ Chalthus _ ! My Dad is dead and you knew and you didn’t fucking  _ tell _ me!”

 

Allura’s eyes widened. Pidge’s father was dead? Judging by the shock on Keith and Lance’s faces, they hadn’t been told either, and Coran’s face was a mask of sorrow beside her as he put an arm around Allura’s waist in silent comfort. She swallowed hard, resisting the urge to leap off the couch and wrap the youngest paladin in her arms in solidarity. Sympathy and comfort would have to wait. Right now they needed answers. With such painful revelations fresh in her mind, Pidge deserved that much. She refocused her attention on the target of the green paladin’s furious interrogation.

 

To their credit, both wore expression of guilty shame and sadness. But there was an oddly shocked component on Alejandro’s face as he peered around Pidge at her brother, and Kurogane seemed to have undergone a horrified realization. Alejandro ran a hand through his hair, looking over at his partner for a long moment before he spoke.

 

“Pidge, I...we...first. We owe you an apology. You’re right, we knew about Chalthus, about your Dad.” The green paladin nodded stiffly, gesturing for them to continue. “We just...didn’t know how to tell you. I mean, how do you tell someone something like that? Hey, we’re from a future where everything went to hell in a fucking handbasket and we’re trying to prevent a whole lot of death, but sorry, Pidge, your dad is already dead and there’s not a damn thing you can do about it?” His tone was bitterly sad as he spoke, regarding her with pained understanding, and he sighed. “For what it’s worth, I really am sorry. We should have told you sooner.”

 

She waved off the apology angrily. “Damn right you should have. And my brother? Why didn’t you tell me was here?”

 

“We forgot he would be here.” It was Kurogane who spoke this time, staring down at his hands and refusing to meet the green paladin’s gaze.

 

“You  _ forgot _ ?” Pidge snapped, whirling toward the future red paladin. “You  _ know _ how important my family is to me. You know how hard I’ve been trying to find them. And you just  _ forgot _ where one of them _ was _ ?”

 

“Because he  _ wasn’t _ for us!” Kurogane cried, head snapping up. His expression was pained, with tears in his eyes and guilt and sorrow raw in his face. He drew in a shuddering breath, closing his eyes for a moment as everyone stared at him in shock and confusion. “He wasn’t here, not for us.”

 

There was a heavy pause before he opened his eyes again, looking Pidge right in the eyes. “H--Pidge, our Pidge, she...she never got  _ any _ of her family back, understand? The last time she saw any of them was her mother, before she went to the Garrison, before Voltron, before anything. And then she went to space, and we liberated Chalthus, and she found a record for a terminated prisoner and that was how she found out her Dad was dead. And then the war went bad and Earth was destroyed and her Mom was gone too. And then we met the Icebringers.”

 

The silence was so thick you could have cut it with a knife, the paladins staring wide-eyed at Kurogane as he told the painful story. “We missed him by two months, Pidge. Everyone knew that the Galra Empire had destroyed a life-bearing world, but no one knew the significance of the target. Matt was the only one who recognized the system they’d attacked. Sol. Earth.” He took a deep breath, looking over at a stunned and horrified Matt before looking to Pidge again. “He thought he was the only Human left. The last one in the entire universe. And he couldn’t take it.”

 

Pidge looked ashen, glancing over her shoulder at her brother, who was wide-eyed in shock. “You’re not saying he…”

 

Kurogane shook his head quickly. “No, of course not. He’s a Holt.” He said firmly, as though that explained something, and maybe it did because the green paladin nodded slowly and so did Shiro, tightening his arm around Matt’s shoulders. “He wanted to make it count.” There was a humorless, lopsided smile on his face as he looked over at the elder Holt. “And it did. We don’t know exactly what he did, and neither did Shiiar’keh--the Matt of that timeline never told them--but the Druids were decimated and even Haggar was out of action for months afterward.”

 

Allura couldn’t help but shoot the ginger an impressed look. Taking out even one druid was no mean feat, and while he obviously hadn’t been fighting one-on-one, the amount of damage he’d apparently managed to do would have been a substantial blow to the Empire.

 

“Two months after that, we met the Icebringers, Pidge. You took your helmet off, Shiiar’keh called you Matt, and that was how you found out your brother was gone too. You grieved, and we grieved with you, but with everything else that happened...we forgot, when we came back here, because there was so much else to worry about. I’m sorry.”

 

Stepping back, Pidge slowly sank into her spot on the couch beside her brother, who was quick to put an arm around her and pull her close. “I was just one death of many for you, huh.” He stated quietly, oddly sympathetic. “And not even one you were there for. No wonder it slipped your mind.”

 

Kurogane nodded, seemingly grateful for Matt’s understanding. “An important one, but still one of many. It’s...there are others that hit harder, for most of us. Ones that we never forgot.”

 

Shiro inclined his head, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “We’re sorry for everything you’ve suffered, and I’m sorry to have to ask this. We need to know more about what happened in your timeline, so we can try to avoid making similar mistakes. Obviously things aren’t going to play out the same way, not with the changes you’ve already made. But if we know more about what the Empire did in your history, we might be better able to predict the sort of things they’ll do now.” He regarded the two time-travellers with gentle determination. “I’m not asking for all the little details of everything you’ve been through. But the more you can tell us, the better chance we stand of making it through this war victorious and in one piece.”

 

Despite the distance from the hangar, Allura swore she could hear the Black Lion roaring in support of her paladin. It was times like these she could easily see why Black had chosen him to lead Voltron--not everyone with pure black quintessence was suited to be the Black Paladin, after all, Zarkon was proof enough of that. But Shiro was everything a good leader should be, strong, compassionate, and willing to do what was necessary. She couldn’t help but be grateful to fate for leading these five Humans to the Blue Lion that day.

 

Alejandro sighed, straightening his shoulders. “You’re right. We wanted to spare you the details of everything that happened. Didn’t think you needed that weight on your shoulders. But you’re right about predicting them, and fresh eyes may find ways out that we missed. We’ll give you the basics, the major incidents, and after that, if there’s anything more you want to know about…all you have to do is ask.”

 

Shiro’s eyes softened. “Thank you. I know this is hard for you. Whenever you’re ready.”

 

The scarred man nodded stiffly, taking a deep breath. “Guess I’ll start at the beginning, then. I gotta warn you, though, it’s not a pretty story. You already knew that, though.”

 

_________

 

“After we took out Zarkon and got Shiro back, we thought the war was just about over. Cut off the head of the snake, right? We were working on bringing down the rest of the Empire, one world at a time, with barely any resistance. Easy peasy. Chalthus was during that time, but that was the worst of it. Figured we’d be home by Christmas, metaphorically speaking. But we didn’t count on Lotor.”

 

“Although we didn’t realize it at the time, the day everything turned and started downhill came a bit less than a year after we took down Zarkon. We were liberating another planet, some unpronounceable binary star system, when a massive fleet came out of nowhere. Battlecruisers, dreadnoughts, and at least half a dozen command ships. Way, way too much for us to take out on our own, Voltron or no Voltron. And one of them sent us a message, some guy we’d never seen before. He introduced himself as Prince Lotor of the Galra Empire, and told us that as amusing as our defiance had been, playtime was over. That was it. No ‘hand over the Lions’, no ‘join us if you want to live’, just that warning and then they opened fire. We had to run for it, and that world stayed conquered.”

 

“None of us were sure what to make of this Lotor guy, so for the time being we kept on as we were, trying to free worlds one by one. Sometimes we succeeded, sometimes Lotor showed up with his armada and drove us off. And sometimes we’d get word from our allies that a world we’d already saved had fallen again, recaptured by the Empire. That went on for quite a while. Then...then Arus happened.”

 

Alejandro faltered, and Kurogane took up the recounting, shifting closer to put an arm around his partner while he spoke. “At the time, we had no idea what happened there. We got a transmission from their emergency beacon that cut off almost as soon as it started, so naturally, we went to check things out. What we found...the planet had been razed. There were massive canyons torn in the charred surface, the atmosphere was ionized, and there was nothing living left. No plants, no animals, no people. Just dead, damaged stone.”

 

“The Weblum’s Breath.” Keith whispered, eyes wide.

 

Kurogane nodded grimly. “A prototype, anyway. Not that we knew it at the time. And there wasn’t time for us to give it much thought. We were losing ground. Fewer and fewer battles were going our way, and the Galra Empire was becoming increasingly brutal toward the worlds they retook. Punishing them for their defiance, and for allying with us. Some worlds were turning off distress beacons that had been active for centuries, not wanting us to help them in case the Empire turned its eyes to them. We kept fighting, though. Kept trying. We thought if we just kept pushing...then the scanners detected a fleet heading straight for Earth.”

 

Kurogane fell silent for a moment, marshalling his thoughts. “We went, of course. It was Earth. Home, for most of us, we don’t know how they figured that out but they did. We knew we were outmatched, that it was probably a trap, but we had to try. Afterward, we  _ wished _ that was all it was.”

 

“They were waiting for us. Lotor’s fleet, and some new ship we’d never seen before, like a dreadnought with a cannon barrel run through it, hanging in space over Earth. It was like they were toying with us, that fight. Didn’t let us hurt them, but they didn’t seem to be trying to hurt us either. Turns out they were just buying time. When that thing fired…” He paused, lacing his fingers with Alejandro’s trembling ones, before continuing.

 

“The Earth shattered. One moment it was there, then it was burning, then it was gone. Just like that, and the Human race with it, except for us. And the Galra left without firing another shot, even though they could’ve wiped us out then and there and we were too in shock to defend ourselves. Lotor’s a sadistic bastard, he wanted us to have to live with the fact that we’d failed to protect Earth, at least for the time being. The Empire had done what they set out to do, sent a message to us and to the rest of the universe that anyone who defied them risked losing everything. Just like that, any allies we had left turned tail and ran. And while we were busy trying to process that loss, the Blade were wiped out as well. When we went to the headquarters to find out why the hell they hadn’t warned us, all we found were bodies. Slaughtered by Empire rifles.”

 

“They didn’t even give us a chance to grieve for Earth, either.” Alejandro said, voice tight. “Just kept hounding us every chance they got. We were running scared, fighting our way out every time, and they were wearing us down. During one especially bad fight, though, we finally found what looked like a glimmer of hope. The Icebringers.”

 

“Honestly, we thought we were done for before they showed up.” Kurogane laughed weakly. “Blue was totally wrecked, crashed on some uninhabited planet, Alejandro was in really bad shape, and the Castle’d been damaged too so we couldn’t even run. Then out of nowhere, a wormhole opened up and spat out ships that we later found out were the Long Wind, the Roaring Mountain, and the Cracking Glacier. They started giving the Empire ships hell and we managed to drive them off together. They put their best doctors to work helping Alejandro while the Castle was being repaired, and started talking alliance with us. Turned out the Weblum’s Breath wasn’t much of a threat to people who didn’t have worlds left to lose, and they were more than ready to work with us now that they’d managed to track us down.”

 

“With the Icebringers on our side, things got better for a while. We had a fleet of our own now, and it took the Empire off guard. We started going after them directly, trying to thin out their ranks, and attacking critical resources like the Almathium mines and the ration-factory worlds. We started winning again, gaining ground, turning the tide. Things were looking up again.”

 

Alejandro twiddled his fingers, staring down at them expressionlessly. “Then Haggar showed up again, for the first time in over half a year. It had been so long, we had almost hoped Matt had gotten her, too, but we should have known better. By that time the Empire knew Voltron had found Allies, and they used that. Baited us into a trap. They captured a ship, the Falling Tree, and lured us in to try to rescue the people who’d been aboard. Noncombatants.  _ Children _ . Innocent lives. Haggar played us like a fiddle, right into her hands, and she was waiting when we got there.”

 

“One minute we’re staring her down inside a Galra cruiser, the next Shiro’s eyes are glowing purple and he’s attacking us and that bitch is just laughing her damn head off, egging him on and calling him her Champion.” Shiro inhaled sharply, face pale, and Hunk put a comforting arm around the black paladin’s shoulders. “He had Pidge and Allura down before we could even react, and Hunk was hurt trying to protect them, which just left me trying to protect them and Keith going one-on-one against him.”

 

“She fucked up, though.” Alejandro’s face split in a humorless parody of a grin. “She tried to make him kill Keith. Shiro managed to partially fight off her control in order to keep from following through. He told us to run, then turned on Haggar. And we followed orders.” His face dropped, and he scrubbed the back of his hand across his face, pressing closer to Kurogane, whose face was a mask of pain. “We got out. And we never saw him again.”

 

There was a strained silence at the implications, the other paladins subtly shifting closer to their leader. Keith rose from his spot beside Coran and moved to sit on the floor in front of Shiro, pressing his back against the older man’s legs as though that would keep him from vanishing.

 

“It was awful, losing Shiro. And with the war going the way it was, we didn’t have time to mourn. Allura took over as Black Paladin--turns out, having someone bonded to Voltron’s energies like that is meant as an emergency feature, someone to be a spare pilot if a back-up paladin isn’t available for that particular Lion, as well as a way to track the Lions at a distance. Normally there’d be apprentice paladins, at least according to Coran, but taking time to search for candidates wasn’t an option so it had to be Allura. We managed well enough like that, for a while, kept fighting, sometimes winning.”

 

“The Empire was still taking out our allies, though, past and present. And their next target was the Balmera. Remember that Druid weapon, the one that could drain entire worlds of their quintessence? They weren’t about to waste the energy of an entire healthy Balmera by shattering it with the Weblum’s Breath.” Hunk inhaled sharply, his normally dark complexion pale, and Lance leaned across the back of the couch to grip his friend’s shoulder silently.

 

“We had some warning this time, thanks to the scouts, but it wasn’t enough, even though they couldn’t work as quickly with their reduced numbers. The Druids were guarded by an entire fleet, too many ships for us to get past before it was too late. A decision was made to engage the fleet and keep them busy while we tried to save as many lives as we could by evacuation.”

 

He swallowed hard, and Kurogane took up the narration once more. “We saved a lot of lives. But it cost us. Badly. Hunk and Yellow were deep inside the Balmera, trying to reach a group that the scanners had missed but he’d managed to spot, when the drain became too much and the planet went into its death throes. Yellow’s armor never stood a chance against a Balmera collapsing in on itself. We lost them both.” Now Lance was equally pale, he and Hunk gripping each other’s hands tightly and the latter looking nauseous at the thought of losing Yellow.

 

“They weren’t the only casualties, either. We were in too deep in the battle above, couldn’t withdraw once there was no one on the ground left to save, and they’d called in reinforcements to corner the Icebringer ships and the Castle. They were too close for wormholes, and too numerous for us to break and run. So Coran...He told the ships to divert to shields. And self-destructed the Castle of Lions.”

 

Allura made a strangled noise, head turning quickly to regard her old friend. The orange-haired Altean looked oddly unbothered by the idea, and simply gave a nod to the two time-travellers, as though standing by the decisions of his counterpart. Kurogane gave the other a respectful nod in return, gratitude written plainly across his face. “It did enough damage to enough Empire ships that our fleet was able to escape via wormhole. Otherwise, I don’t think anyone would have made it out.”

 

“With the Castle gone, the four of us that were left moved into the Long Wind permanently. We finally learned about the aspects, and started training in them when we could spare the time.” Alejandro explained. “It was also at that time that we did something else. Lance,” the blue paladin’s head snapped up at his name. “Why did you chose those nicknames for us?”

 

“Huh?” Lance’s mouth fell open in confusion at the unexpected question. “Um, I chose Alejandro for you because you remind me of him. Our oldest brother.” He clarified, glancing at his teammates. “Serious a lot of the time, but you can be playful and you obviously care a lot.” His gaze flicked over to Kurogane. “And I chose Kurogane because he’s like a darker version of Shiro, and I read somewhere that Shiro means white and kuro means black, so…” He scratched his cheek awkwardly, looking uncertain, as if he was worried he might have crossed a line.

 

Alejandro laughed softly. “I see. Did you notice we didn’t have any trouble answering to those names, and even using them for each other?” Lance nodded slowly, and the others looked surprised and curious as well. “It’s because we were already going by those names for years before we came back. When we moved into the Long Wind, the four of us changed our names, to honour those we’d lost. I became Alejandro, to represent the family I lost when Earth was destroyed. Keith became Kurogane, the shadow of the closest thing he’d ever had to a brother. Pidge became Holt, for the family she’d searched the stars for and only found their ghosts. And Allura became Altea, for her planet and her people.”

 

“We kept fighting, of course, but with Yellow destroyed Voltron was no longer an option. Battles were a lot harder, and even the fact that we had the entire Icebringer fleet on our side wasn’t enough anymore. We were less of an actual threat and more of a minor thorn in the Empire’s side. One that had seriously pissed off the people in charge, as it turns out. It had been almost five years since we’d seen any sign of Zarkon at this point. We thought he was dead. We were wrong. Very wrong. He came back with a vengeance, gathered a huge portion of the Empire fleet, and descended on us hell-bent on making us pay with blood for every time we’d dared stand up to him and his soldiers.”

 

“That battle was...the beginning of the end, I think. The point when we realized there was absolutely no coming back, no chance of victory, no more hope. The devastation among our ships...And we lost Black and Altea. She was never supposed to be permanent pilot, that’s not what her connection was intended for. Her quintessence wasn’t a match for the Black Lion’s, so she couldn’t form a bond strong enough to shield them both against Zarkon the way Shiro had. Altea stopped screaming right before Zarkon tore Black to pieces for rejecting him.”

 

Allura and Shiro both went ashen at the description, the Altean leaning into Coran’s arms as though it would protect her and the Human closing his eyes, obviously reaching for his mental link with Black to reassure himself of the Lion’s continued presence. Alejandro waited until he’d opened his eyes once more before continuing.

 

“What was left of the fleet was now on the run, a couple dozen ships with three Lions trying to protect them. The Empire was still punishing every world that had ever worked with us, trying to make sure that no one would ever defy them again. They must have decided that the Olkari were more dangerous than useful as a species, because Olkarion went the way of Earth, Altea, and H’ressnol, along with a couple other worlds we didn’t recognize, potential threats stamped out before they could become actual ones. We were mostly focused on staying alive at that point, although we still helped people when we could. It wasn’t often.”

 

“Eventually, the remaining packs split. Some stayed where they were, helping refugees and sabotaging the Empire as best they could, a last act of defiance. And the majority went back to Sh’ra H’ressnol, to keep it safe. Kurogane and I stayed with the former. Holt took Green and went with the latter. She thought maybe talking to the Alteans there would turn up some option that we’d missed, some secret weapon of Altean technology that might still turn things around. A vain hope, but we were beyond desperate.”

 

He glanced at Pidge, eyes sad. “A few weeks later, the Empire found Sh’ra H’ressnol. We don’t know how. All we know is we got a transmission from Holt, with the sounds of Empire weapons in the background. She told us there was one more aspect, the metaphysical element, and that we needed to use Blue’s. ‘Blue is chaos, Yellow is law, Green is creation, Red is destruction.’ It cut off there, mid-sentence, before she could tell us anything else. Nothing about how to connect to the aspect, nothing about what it was supposed to achieve. Just ‘Blue’s last aspect is chaos. Use it.’ and the knowledge that there was just two of us left now.” Across the room, Lance and Matt both wrapped their arms around the smallest paladin, who swallowed anxiously.

 

“What was left of the resistance kept running, for a long while after that. The Long Wind, the Roaring Mountain, the Cracking Glacier, and the two of us, with the Red and Blue Lions. No more fighting, no more defiance. Just trying to stay alive as best we could for as long as we could. They found us, though. Took them a while, but they tracked us down. Zarkon, Lotor, and Haggar were determined to stamp us out once and for all.”

 

“They caught us just at the edge of the Helant Verus system, three refugee ships and two Voltron lions up against an armada.” Kurogane said softly, gaze fixed on some invisible point beyond the walls of the room. “Alejandro and I were fighting hard, trying to cover the ships long enough for them to escape. We saw the Roaring Mountain ripped open by a dreadnought’s ion cannon, heard the Cracking Glacier’s coms go dead and her lights go dark. These were beings who’d become like family to me, and I was losing family all over again. I...I remember just wanting it all to stop.”

 

“There was a pulse, a massive pulse of red quintessence.” Alejandro said softly, pulling his partner closer against his side. “And everything it touched, every Empire ship, lit up like a star going nova. One moment there was a fleet, the next..nothing. Not even shreds of metal to tell you anything at all had ever been there. Just the Red Lion, hanging dead in the middle of open space. No sign of the Long Wind. We don’t know if she was destroyed too, either by the enemy or the blasts, or if she escaped somehow. As much as I’d like to, though, I doubt she made it out.”

 

“When I pulled Kurogane out of the Red Lion, there was...she was dead. I could just tell. She might as well have been any primitive old spacecraft from Earth from all the life there was in her. He’d tapped into the aspect of destruction, but it came at immense cost. Used every scrap of red quintessence that made up her core, and it killed her. After that, it was just the two of us and Blue, doing our best to stay alive even though at times we wondered if just laying down to die wouldn’t be easier.”

 

“We talked a lot, about Blue’s aspect. Chaos. We still didn’t know what it meant. Destruction was fairly obvious, the most obvious of the four we knew. Chaos not so much. Eventually, though, we agreed that no matter what ended up happening, we had nothing left to lose by trying. Stay and die sooner or later, either under Empire’s guns or from Blue’s failing systems or lack of supplies; or try, and gamble an unknown death versus an unknown gain. We would make the attempt.”

 

“At the end, we were hiding in the last place we thought the Empire would look. The Sol system. On Kerberos, actually. It seemed fitting, I guess, that if--no, when--we died it would be back in the place it all started for the five of us, even if we didn’t know it at the time. The Persephone was still sitting there, untouched, like an abandoned monument. We parked Blue right next to her, but we left the Persephone be. We just stayed there, in Blue, trying to activate her metaphysical aspect. When I did manage it, it wasn’t even on purpose. We were sitting in the cockpit, looking out at the asteroid belt that used to be Earth, and I remember wishing, so fucking desperately, that everything could have been different.”

 

He gave a small, shaky laugh. “One second, there’s nothing but stars on the screen in front of us, and Charon off to one side. The next, the view’s a hangar that we hadn’t seen in two and a half years and I can’t fully feel Blue anymore even though we're standing right inside her. We were so damn confused, let me tell you that. But we didn’t survive as long as we did by not keeping our heads in strange situations. When Allura and Keith showed up, it was a shock, to say the least. But it told us what had to have happened.”

  
“Somehow, the last aspect of blue quintessence manifests as manipulation of time. I think Holt knew that, and it’s why she told us to use it. Chaos.  _ Change. _ A chance to make things turn out differently. And that’s how and why we’re here now, to try to make sure  _ none _ of the story we just told you  _ ever _ comes true.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A brief summary of the timeline of events as they occurred in the original timeline. Actual intervals are approximate and rounded to the nearest month.
> 
> -1 years - Kerberos capture  
> -1 years, -6 months - Sam Holt dies  
> -1 years, -1 months - Matt rescued by Icebringers  
> 0 year - Shiro escapes, Voltron recovered  
> 0 year, 8 months - Zarkon incapacitated, Lotor begins consolidation of control, beginning of a period of successful liberations  
> 0 year, 10 months - Shiro recovered from Black Lion  
> 1 years, 3 month - Arrival of Kurogane and Alejandro (timelines diverge)  
> 1 years, 4 months - Chalthus mission (Pidge learns of her father's death)  
> 1 years, 6 months - first battle against Lotor (liberation attempt which fails), beginning of a period of mixture of thwarted liberations and successful ones and occasional recaptures  
> 2 years, 4 months - destruction of Arus (prototype Weblum's Breath, surface damage but not planetary destruction), recaptures become more destructive  
> 3 years - destruction of Earth (Weblum's Breath), massacre of the Blade, Voltron being harrassed by Empire  
> 3 years, 1 months - Matt Holt learns of Earth's destruction  
> 3 years, 2 months - Matt Holt killed in suicide strike against the Druids  
> 3 years, 4 months - Voltron meets and allies with Icebringers, Pidge learns of her brother's death, alliance begins fighting back with some success  
> 4 years, 2 month - Haggar lures Voltron into trap, Shiro dies, Allura becomes Black Paladin  
> 4 years, 7 months - destruction of the Balmera (quintessential drain), Hunk dies, Yellow Lion destroyed, Castle destroyed, Coran dies, remaining Voltron team becomes based out of Long Wind, name changes, Paladins begin training in quintessence  
> 5 years, 4 months - Zarkon returns, attacks Icebringers/Voltron, fights Allura for control of Black Lion, Allura dies, Black Lion destroyed, heavy losses among allied fleet, Voltron alliance is now fleeing and on defensive  
> 5 years, 6 months - destruction of Olkarion (Weblum’s Breath), ongoing destruction of known allies of Voltron  
> 6 years - Remaining Icebringer ships split up, Pidge goes to Sh’ra H’ressnol to search for some kind of secret weapon  
> 6 years, 2 months - Empire finds and attacks Sh’ra H’ressnol, destruction of Sh’ra H’ressnol and much of remaining Icebringer fleet, Pidge dies, Green Lion destroyed, Pidge manages to send cryptic message about a final aspect of quintessence before her death, Long Wind, Cracking Glacier, and Roaring Mountain are now refugee ships guarded by Red and Blue  
> 6 years, 11 months - Empire fleet attacks Long Wind & co with massive fleet, Icebringer ships destroyed, Keith activates Destruction aspect of Red Lion’s quintessence, destroys Empire fleet, Red Lion dies, Keith and Lance are alone with heavily damaged Blue Lion, running for their lives  
> 7 years, 3 months - Lance activates Chaos aspect of Blue Lion’s quintessence to travel back in time
> 
> A copy of this timeline can also be found here: https://vldaspect.tumblr.com/post/162744726525/the-bad-timeline


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No warnings for this chapter.
> 
> Real life ate my entire weekend, and I had to backtrack chapter 15 about 800 words because plot, but I got it done. Have some happier stuff now after those last two chapters.

The stars hung distant and unblinking beyond the flat glass that made up the outer wall of the observation lounge. Kurogane’s eyes scanned them restlessly, watching for a faint shift of alignment in the scattered lights that would betray a passing ship, a potential threat. Intellectually, he knew that the Castle-ship’s scanners would detect any approaching Empire vessels long before his eyes could catch the motion of their lights, but the habit was set too deep in his bones, too ingrained as something necessary for survival, for him to stop easily now.

 

A brief glance downward reassured him of the presence of Alejandro, whose head was nestled in the crook of his neck as the Cuban dozed against his shoulder. The former red paladin brushed a gentle kiss to the tousled brown hair, smiling as the other stirred and snuggled closer. It was a relief to see his partner resting peacefully for once, especially after such an emotionally trying afternoon.

 

Kurogane could still feel the weight of the silence that had filled the meeting room on the Long Wind once Alejandro had finally stopped speaking. For several minutes, no one moved except to exchange nervous, uncertain glances. Eventually, though, it was Shiro who spoke, gaze deeply respectful as he chose his words slowly and carefully.

 

“Thank you. Both of you. I know that must have been very hard for you to do. You’ve given us a lot to think about.” The older Korean followed the black paladin’s gaze as it scanned over the wide-eyed, anxious faces of the rest of the team. They were so young, so innocent. They still had so much to lose, and they were only just now realizing it. “I think we should head back to the Castle for the night. Take some time to just...take it all in, and we can continue the discussion in the morning.”

 

There’d been no protests, and the short flight back had been silent, at least in the Black Lion where the two time-travellers braced themselves against one wall opposite Allura and Coran. Upon arrival, though, Lance and Hunk had stepped forward, the blue paladin clearing his throat. “Everyone meet us in the observation lounge we’ve got set up for sleeping, okay?  _ Everyone. _ ” The warning stare he’d fixed at first the two Alteans, then at Kurogane and Alejandro had indicated exactly who the emphasis was intended for. Too exhausted to argue, Kurogane had simply nodded and made his way upstairs, finding an open patch of floor for himself and his partner to settle on.

 

Behind him, he could hear soft discussions as the remainder of the group arranged piles of pillows and blankets. Lance and Hunk had yet to return, and Coran was off somewhere collecting more bedding from storage, leaving Allura, Shiro, Keith, Pidge and Matt to prepare the room. A glance over his shoulder rewarded him with the sight of the elder Holt resting with his back against one of the couches and smiling fondly at his sister as she fussed over propping his bad leg on a pillow. Kurogane turned away, swallowing hard against a wave of guilt. How could he have forgotten that Holt’s brother was still alive at this time, was already on the ship they were allying with? Alejandro, at least, had an excuse, given he’d been badly hurt at the time they’d found out. The Korean, on the other hand, should have known, should have  _ remembered _ . He closed his eyes, sending a silent apology out to the stars and his dead sister.

 

A sudden commotion behind him had Alejandro’s eyes snapping open and Kurogane’s head whipping around, instantly on the defensive before he located the source and quickly relaxed. The two missing paladins had returned, each carrying precarious stacks of boxes that were tottering dangerously. Fortunately, just as Lance’s stack was about to topple entirely, Allura stepped in to take part of the load and set them down. “What’s all this, Lance?”

 

The Cuban set down his remaining boxes and turned to assist Hunk with his. “Hunk and I were thinking,” he began, just as Coran arrived dragging a large storage crate of bedding, “that after hearing all that, no offense to you two,” he nodded to Alejandro, who shrugged and grimaced sympathetically, “there’s no way in hell any of us are gonna get to sleep easy. So! De-stressing party! I know most of you aren’t really into this kind of stuff, but trust me, it  _ helps _ .” He crouched down next to the pile of boxes and began pulling them open. “Nail polish, facials, mani-pedi supplies, hair trimmers...Whatever you guys feel like doing.”

 

There was a pause as the others exchanged uncertain glances, then Pidge sighed. “You know what? What the hell. If you think it’ll help, let’s give it a try.” Seeing Lance’s stunned expression, as though he hadn’t actually expected anyone to take him up on his offer, she cackled. “Come on, beauty boy, you heard me. Pamper me up.” She held out one hand expectantly.

 

Kurogane couldn’t help but smile as the younger Cuban’s face lit up. He knew for a fact that if space hadn’t been his first love, his partner would have gone to beauty school, and would have excelled. He didn’t miss the longing expression on Alejandro’s face, however, as he watched his younger self pull over a few boxes and set to work applying a mud mask to the green paladin’s face. They’d lost so much in their war, from their family and friends to the small joys that used to tie them to home. He elbowed Alejandro gently. “You should join them.”

 

The other startled. “What? No! It’s been ages since I even handled a nail file. I’ll just make a mess of it.”

 

He frowned, prodding a little more firmly. “No you won’t. You’re a natural at this stuff. It’ll be just like riding a hoverbike.” Kurogane put one hand on Alejandro’s back and pushed. “Get over there.”

 

The blue paladin nearly toppled over with a yelp and shot the Korean a glare. But he did get to his feet and make his way hesitantly over to where Hunk was arranging a fascinated Coran’s hand for a manicure. “Need any help?”

 

Hunk shot him a beaming grin, and Kurogane was relieved to see Alejandro’s shoulders relax. “Absolutely! Allura wanted to try a mud mask, so if you can get her started on that, and then see if you can figure out what Keith wants, because I can tell there’s  _ something _ but he won’t say.” The yellow paladin squinted at his teammate, who reddened and looked away.

 

Alejandro laughed. “Can do.” He shot a smirk over at both red paladins, then continued in a stage whisper, “It’s nail painting, by the way. Kurogane  _ loves _ having his nails painted.”

 

Keith squawked, cheeks flaring crimson, but Kurogane just chuckled. “Guilty. You can do mine after, too.” He wiggled his fingers invitingly, and was pleased when the other gave him a thumbs up.

 

“Or I could do them.” He blinked in surprise, turning toward Shiro, who waved him closer. “If you’re okay with that, that is.” He added, looking suddenly uncertain.

 

“Uh, yeah, that’s fine.” Pushing himself to his feet, he picked his way carefully across the blacket-strewn floor to the black paladin, settling himself down cross-legged in front of him. Looking up at Shiro, he studied the Japanese male carefully. He looked so much like the Shiro he’d lost, a little less careworn, a little more hyper-alert to his Galra arm, but otherwise this could have been his brother just hours before they got word of the mission to rescue the civilians of the captured Falling Tree. For half-a-second his vision was overlaid by glowing indigo eyes and a cruel grin lit from below by ultraviolet pink and he shook his head quickly, forcing back the memory before it could swallow him.

 

Shiro paused in pawing through the box of nail polishes beside him. “Memory?” He asked quietly, tone sympathetic.

 

“Yeah. Sorry.” Kurogane took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly through his nose, forcing himself to calm down. “You look a lot like he did, is all.”

 

The Japanese male nodded. “I figured as much. What colour do you want?” He asked, holding up the box for the other’s perusal. “He has so many different kinds, I don’t even know where to start.”

 

“Surprise me.” The red paladin shrugged, holding out his hands for Shiro to work on. He watched curiously as the black paladin gave the box a considering frown as though making a major tactical decision before carefully selecting a few different bottles and uncapping one. Typical Shiro, that, taking even small choices very seriously. 

 

“I guess I understand now why you two don’t spend much time around the rest of us.” Shiro said quietly, brows furrowed in concentration as he started spreading green polish neatly over Kurogane’s left thumbnail. “We look like the teammates you lost, but we aren’t them. Not quite, anyway. And that has to be really hard for you.”

 

The observation caught Kurogane off-guard, and all he could do was nod as the other turned his attention to the other thumb. “Not exactly the best way to build trust, I know.” Honestly, he was surprised the others had been so willing to listen to them, especially considering their terrible first impression. Attacking Keith and Allura, and admitting to having killed Blue to get there. If it had been him on the other side of the conversation, there most likely would have been bloodshed.

 

The black paladin paused midway through putting the lid back on the green. “Why on earth wouldn’t we trust you?” He sounded genuinely baffled, finishing capping the bottle and opening a black polish, which he started spreading on Kurogane’s pointer fingers.

 

“We did kind of show up out of nowhere.” He pointed out.

 

“Inside the Blue Lion, who didn’t seem particularly bothered by it from what Allura said.” Shiro countered, switching to the red paladin’s other hand again. “Blue’s about as subtle with her opinions as Lance is.”

 

Well, he wasn’t wrong. “We attacked Keith and Allura.”

 

Shiro’s lips quirked. “Who snuck up on you, and you only acted on instinct after the way you’d been living.”

 

Kurogane frowned, quirking an eyebrow. That was true, he supposed, but they hadn’t known the details at the time. “We killed Blue. Our Blue, anyway.”

 

“Out of necessity, in order to save trillions of lives.” The black paladin responded easily, setting aside the black polish in favour of a bright red that he started applying to the scarred male’s middle fingers. “And you certainly weren’t  _ happy _ about it.”

 

Kurogane stared at the other man in confusion. “We showed up in the middle of the night spouting warnings of death and destruction, and you let us send messages to a group of aliens you’d never met before telling them our location. For all you knew we could have been Druid illusions or spies in disguise calling down the Empire on you!”

 

Shiro sighed, setting down the nail polish and looking him in the eyes. “Kurogane, listen to me. You may look different. You may act different, after everything you’ve been through. And you may go by a different name. But the core of you, who you are deep down, is still Keith. You’re still my brother. I’d know you anywhere. And I trust you.”

 

The former paladin’s mind reeled, his chest aching at the words. He’d resigned himself years ago to the fact that Shiro was gone, this time for good. That the man who’d been a brother to him for years, a pillar and an anchor during his teenage years and beyond, who’d helped him learn to trust again after the foster system had left him an angry paranoid mess and who had always stood by him, even at his worst, was dead. And now this timeline’s Shiro was looking at him with that same gentle, accepting smile and calling him brother three years after he’d last heard those words.

 

His breath hitched, vision blurring with tears, and he bowed his head, trying to get his emotions under control. Then there were hands on his shoulders, careful and familiar, and he was being pulled forward into a protective embrace. “Sh, sh, I’ve got you. It’s okay. You’re safe.” With familiar reassurances in his ears, Kurogane closed his eyes and let the tears spill over.

 

When he pulled back, his eyes and cheeks were equally red and he looked away quickly, feeling like a teenager all over again as he did so. He wanted to thank the other man, let him know how deeply he appreciated being given back some small part of what he’d lost, but he couldn’t find the words, which had never been his strong suit anyway. But Shiro seemed to understand the things he didn’t know how to say, just like he always could, because he simply nodded and gave him a pleased smile. “Come on. I need to finish your nails.” He held up two more small bottles of polish, one yellow and one blue.

 

________

 

Alejandro dipped his fingers into the jar of facial cream and started carefully smearing it over Allura’s face, making sure to avoid her eyes and the markings under them. His movements were slow and hesitant; while this was hardly the first time he’d done this for the Princess, it had been a long time since he’d done this at all.

 

She seemed to sense his nervousness, because she opened one eye and smiled at him. “I have to admit, I had my doubts about this…’mud mask’, but it does feel very nice on the skin.”

 

He chuckled, scooping up a fresh glop and applying it to her other cheek. “Wait til you see how it feels when it’s off. Trust me, nothing feels better then your face at the end of a skin care routine.”

 

“Man, you said it. Altean skin care products are fantastic.” Lance agreed, spreading a metallic green enamel on Pidge’s nails. The green paladin was being tag-teamed by both Lance and Matt, one doing her nails and the other brushing her hair. Alejandro swore he could hear her purring in contentment at the attention. Not that Matt was much better--judging by the rapturous expression on his face as he carded the brush through his sister’s messy mop, you could have set off an ion cannon next to him and he wouldn’t have even blinked.

 

“Where’d you even get all this stuff, anyway?” Hunk asked, buffing Coran’s nails with a soft cloth. “I mean, we’ve only been to the space mall once, and you spent all your GAC on that game system.”

 

“Storage here on the Castle.” The blue paladin explained, setting aside the bottle of polish and blowing carefully on Pidge’s fingers to dry them. “I started breaking out because I didn’t get to bring my kit with me, and I asked Allura if she had any extra skin care products. Apparently there’s tons of stuff stashed away in this place.” Testing the nails carefully, he picked up a bottle of gold polish and started drawing thin lines over top of the green with a fine-tipped brush, sticking out his tongue in concentration.

 

Allura shrugged, nearly making Alejandro poke her in the mouth as he tried to finish spreading cream on her chin. “Sorry. No one else was using it, I figured he may as well make use of it if he needed it. And if it helped one of my paladins settle in, so much the better.” She gave the younger Cuban a fond smile, and he paused in painting to grin back at her.

 

Alejandro laughed softly. “I remember that. It helped a lot, with the acne and the homesickness. Thank you.” He capped the jar, staring at it contemplatively. “This is gonna sound stupid, but it’s one of the things I missed the most after we lost the Castle.” His beauty regime had been a calming ritual in a stressful time, something he used to manage his anxiety, and also a link to the home he’d lost. Losing it had been a double blow in an already incredibly difficult time.

 

Lance’s head whipped around so fast he smeared a streak of gold polish across Pidge’s hand, making her yelp. “You haven’t been able to take care of your skin since then?” He sounded both dismayed and affronted by the idea of his older self not having any access to beauty products. At Alejandro’s cautious nod, he scowled. “That settles it. As soon as I’m done here, you are getting a full spa treatment.” He emphasized the statement with brisk wipes of a tissue across the green paladin’s hand.

 

“Sounds fantastic.” Alejandro laughed softly, warmth blooming in his chest at Lance’s outrage on his behalf. “I look forward to it. Keith, get over here, I’ll do your nails while Lance finishes Pidge’s. Red or black?”

 

“Black.” The red paladin said promptly, pushing a couple of pillows out of the way so he could scoot closer. Since the Cuban had already exposed his desire to have his nails painted, he wasn’t bothering to fully conceal his eagerness as he held out his hands.

 

“Going full emo, huh Keith?” Lance teased, resuming painting delicate circuit board designs for Pidge, to her obvious delight. Keith reddened, looking away, and started to pull back a bit.

 

Alejandro shot Lance a disappointed frown, making his younger self flush. “Black’s a great choice, Keith. It’ll look great with your gloves.” He reassured. Keith was always so uncertain when it came to social interactions, a trait that Kurogane had never lost, never quite sure of himself when it came to trying new activities. He was rewarded by the paladin’s small, hesitant smile as he put his hands out again, and pretended not to see the way his younger self’s eyes widened and his cheeks darkened at the expression on Keith’s face. Instead, he set to work, painting the teen’s nails in precise, even strokes. They’d get there. And with Kurogane and Alejandro leading by example, maybe it wouldn’t even take as long.

 

Soon enough, Lance was putting the cap back on his bottle of polish. “Alright, make yourself comfortable. It is  _ pampering _ time.” At his direction, Alejandro settled into a makeshift lounger built from pillows, arranging his limbs for easy access while the younger paladin ordered the others around. Apparently his beauty-session was going to be a group project if the blue paladin had anything to say about it, a fact that Kurogane clearly found hilarious judging by his sniggers as he and Shiro rejoined the others. Not that he minded, the attention made him feel better than he had in...years, probably. He relaxed and closed his eyes while Allura started spreading the mud mask on his face and Coran set to work trimming his hair.

 

“...Shiro, you’re gonna help me with his manicure, I’ll talk you through it while I do his other hand. Hunk, you’re on pedicure duty because seriously, you rock at foot massages.”

 

His eyes popped open, but Kurogane spoke up before he could. “Uh, he...doesn’t really do pedicures.” The Korean said quickly, glancing down at him with a slightly concerned look.

 

“He doesn’t?” Hunk sounded more than a little confused, glancing between Lance and Alejandro uncertainly as he paused in unlacing his left boot. Alejandro couldn’t blame him, mani-pedis used to be one of his favourite treats when he was having a bad day, something that Hunk would be more than familiar with.

 

Lance was equally confused, brows furrowing as he stared at his older self, box of manicure supplies tucked against his hip. “Since when?”

 

“Since both of my feet are made of metal now.” Alejandro responded, shooting his partner a quick reassuring look. They were going to find out eventually, it might as well be now. And this was his team, or a version of them, he trusted them to take it in stride.

 

There was a round of astonished blinking, then, “Wait,  _ what? _ ” Lance yelped, fumbling with the box as he nearly dropped it. “What the hell do you mean?!”

 

Sitting up slightly, the former blue paladin quickly pulled off his left boot, exposing blue-white metal, slightly dulled with wear and tear. He held his foot up and flexed the toes, drawing startled exclamations from several of the group. Coran leaned in, peering closely and making an approving sound. “Prosthetics.” Alejandro explained, pulling off the other boot as well. “Up to here,” he tapped the middle of his left thigh, “and here,” he indicated a spot two thirds of the way up his right shin.

 

“ _ Dude. _ Those are  _ wicked _ .” Pidges eyes were practically gleaming as she just barely resisted the urge to ruin Lance’s work by grabbing one of the limbs to examine it.

 

“Those are Icebringer prosthetics. Olkari tech, Altean aesthetics, and H’ress workmanship.” Matt realized as he peered closer, adjusting the glasses Pidge had returned to him once they were back on the Castle, much to his relief. “Kurogane mentioned they helped when you were hurt back when you first met them. Are these from then?”

 

Alejandro nodded, leaning back on the pillows again. “The Castle’s pods were damaged and I needed immediate medical attention. The Icebringers saved my life and built my new legs as a sort of trust offering.”

 

Kurogane must have noticed the look of horror on Shiro’s face as he stared at Alejandro’s metallic feet, because he quickly put a hand on the black paladin’s arm. “It’s okay. These aren’t like your arm.” He explained softly. “Totally different interfacing tech. They can be taken off at will, and they don’t hurt him any.” The other man subsided a little, but still looked as though he felt guilty for something far beyond his control.

 

“What happened, anyway?” Lance asked curiously, pulling up a cushion and sitting down beside him, passing manicure supplies across to Shiro while Hunk opted to grab his spare toolkit and look over the prosthetics for wear and tear.

 

Alejandro grimaced. “A fight that went bad, resulting in Blue taking an unpowered fall from the edge of atmo and hitting the ground face first. The cockpit was partially crushed and a lot of the panels buckled. Shiro had to cut me free with his arm.” He shot the black paladin a grateful look, who looked surprised at the idea of using his arm in that way.

 

The younger blue paladin looked horrified, face pale. “That’s...geez, that’s awful.”

 

“A bit, yeah. I had nightmares for quite a while after, still do sometimes. And being in the dark and unable to move? Just...no.”

 

“I can imagine.” Lance swallowed nervously, busying himself filing his counterpart’s nails.

 

“That’s not going to happen this time, however.” Allura spoke up firmly, drawing the attention of the others. “I promise you, both of you, we will work together to ensure that none of the tragedy you suffered comes to pass in this altered timeline. The sacrifice you and the Blue Lion made will not be in vain.” Her vibrant gaze fell on each of them in turn, and one by one they straightened, eyes gleaming with determination and readiness to keep fighting. The revelations they’d been faced with that day had shocked them, yes, but it only made them more determined to keep fighting, to serve their duty as paladins and protect the people of the universe.

 

Alejandro felt a lump in his throat as he looked up at all of them. They really hadn’t changed much at all, had they? “Thanks, guys.” He whispered softly.

 

Pidge grinned, reflexively going to adjust the glasses she was no longer wearing and blushing. “You don’t need to thank us. We’re a team, all of us. That includes you two. We’re all going to work together and kick some Empire ass.” She patted his arm. “Nobody fucks with our family and gets away with it, and we apparently have several years worth of fucking to get them back for, so we better get started as soon as possible.”

 

He nodded, feeling tears pricking at the corners of his eyes as he gave her a shaky smile. While the time travel had been totally unexpected, being surrounded by younger versions of their family had been difficult, and they had watched the team’s painfully familiar dynamics from the outside with an aching loneliness that had been far worse than anything they’d felt since losing the brothers and sisters they’d fought with. And now they were being welcomed into this family, turning a family of eight and a family of two into a single unit of ten.

 

“I think in the morning we should sit down and talk strategy. Aspects or no aspects, we need to figure out a plan to bring down the Empire as quickly as possible, and that’s probably going to mean going on the offensive sooner rather than later.” Shiro said, scratching his chin thoughtfully. “For now, though, it’s late, and we’ve had a long day. Try to get some rest, okay?”

 

There were murmurs of assent from the group, and a mocking “yes, dad” from Lance. None of them rushed to settle in, though, silently insisting on finishing Alejandro’s beauty treatment, and he couldn’t help but share a joyful glance with Kurogane, who looked equally pleased. He held still for the manicure and nail painting, and adjusted his legs on demand for Hunk, who was determinedly buffing his feet with a soft cloth, bringing back some of the shine they’d had originally. Finally he cleaned off the mud mask and breathed a delighted sigh at the almost-forgotten feeling it left in his skin.

 

“Better?” Lance grinned at him. The younger blue paladin looked completely at ease now, and Alejandro could tell he wasn’t just asking about the skin care.

 

“Tons.” Alejandro grinned back, trying to imbue the word with all the gratitude overflowing his heart. From the way Lance’s smile widened, he heard it.

 

Slowly the two of them cleared up the beauty products scattered all over the room, sorting them neatly into their boxes to be put aside out of the way. While they worked the rest of the group set to work arranging pillows and blankets in a circle in the middle of the floor. Pidge was the first to claim her spot, and the others arranged themselves according to some unspoken plan.

 

Beside Pidge was Matt, the smaller Holt curling protectively around her brother’s arm. No one faulted the two for being joined at the hip after so long apart, and Alejandro felt a pang of sadness for the fact that his Holt had never gotten to have this. Shiro was on Matt’s other side, watching his old crewmate with a small, soft smile that made the Cuban wonder if there was something else going on there. If there was, the Shiro of his time had never mentioned it, but he hoped if it happened, it would end happy. They’d both suffered enough.

 

Beyond Shiro was Keith, flopped on his back and examining his nails with a pleased expression. Lance quickly settled into the open spot beside him, whispering something that made Keith’s cheeks redden. Alejandro grinned and shot his younger self a thumb’s up as he settled down on the other side of Hunk, who was already laying in his accustomed spot beside his best friend. He quietly thanked the yellow paladin for the work he’d done on the prosthetic limbs--he hadn’t realized they were having problems until now, feeling the difference after an hour’s attention by the talented mechanic. Hunk shrugged and grinned cheerfully, promising him a proper tune-up as soon as they could find the time.

 

Alejandro felt Kurogane settle in beside him, throwing an arm around his waist and nuzzling into the now-shorter hair that Coran had trimmed for him with a soft purring sound that made the Cuban giggle as it tickled his ear. Behind them both, Coran chuckled, making a comment to Allura about Keith and Lance being a remarkably sweet couple once they stopped dancing around each other like a couple of Yeltshian diverfins trying to court a mate. Pidge snorted loudly on Allura’s other side, saying something about statistically unlikely miracles that brought a chorus of laughter from several of the others.

 

Beyond the glass window of the observation lounge, the stars cast a faint light into the room. Alejandro sighed, snuggling deeper into the soft blankets. The last time he’d slept under starlight like this, it had been on the cold floor of Blue’s cockpit, with Kurogane keeping watch beside him and nothing else left of home or family. Now, incredibly, he had both again, as well as something else he’d thought long gone beyond any chance of retrieval.

 

Hope.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No warnings for this chapter.
> 
> Apparently I can write 2000 words in three days or 2000 words in two hours and there's no in between. Reminder that you can watch me scream about how out of hand this plot has gotten and get hints about future chapters on my tumblr for this fic, vldaspect.tumblr.com

If someone were to put Takashi Shirogane and Ryou Shirogane beside each other, the resemblance was so pronounced that people often assumed they were brothers by blood rather than cousins, even if they had grown up together when Ryou’s father and mothers had taken in their recently-orphaned nephew at just nine years old. Despite the difference in their ages, the two looked very much alike, especially right now, with Ryou channelling his adoptive brother at his finals week worst. Colleen was greeted by bloodshot eyes and three days worth of stubble when she returned from her overnight scouting of the entrance to the caves depicted on the conspiracy board on the wall of Kogane’s shack.

 

“Any progress?” She asked, dumping her backpack onto the couch and pulling a chair up to the rickety table, scattered with copies of the information on the board as well as copious notes in Ryou’s scratchy handwriting.

 

“Not much.” The younger huffed irritably, fisting a hand in his messy hair. When Colleen had called him three days earlier saying she had something he needed to see that had to do with the local archeological mystery he’d been chasing for years, and he needed to meet her at his brother’s old shack by the Garrison, he’d been honestly skeptical, but he’d humored her because he knew Takashi thought highly of her and, the few times they’d met, she seemed like a practical woman with enough sense not to be easily fooled. Then he’d walked into the run-down building, caught sight of the photos on the wall, and nearly broken his leg tripping over a chair in his haste to get a closer look.

 

“Whatever these symbols are, they bear no resemblance whatsoever to any known language on Earth. I’ve seen a few of the symbols at other local sites, but nothing like  _ this _ .” He waved his other hand at the images of writing etched into the walls of the cave that he’d spent the last three days studying. “Did you find anything that Keith missed? His documentation looks pretty thorough, but without seeing the site myself…”

 

Colleen nodded, pouring herself a cup of cold coffee from the carafe on the table. “A hole in the floor of the cave. Easily big enough for someone to climb down. We’ll need spelunking gear, I couldn’t see how far it went.” She sipped thoughtfully, staring at the board. “Other than that, though, no. He’s got pictures of every single carving, and mapped out their placements really well.”

 

Ryou thumbed aimlessly through a stack of pictures, copies of the star diagrams. “For an amateur archeologist, he did a good job. I can’t find any holes in his interpretations either. The images definitely seem to depict a portal of some sort, producing a blue lion and a warrior. The warrior disappears, and the lion sleeps. Eventually, five figures approach--that’s where the star diagrams come in, apparently they approach on that day--and the lion wakes and returns to the stars.”

 

“Helpful.” Colleen commented over her mug.

 

“Tell me about it.” He groaned, slumping back in the chair and glaring at the table. “There’s nothing to indicate what any of it might mean, either. Nothing that might represent natural disasters, eclipses--unless that’s what the portal represents--wars, or political upheaval. Just the lion, the warrior, and the five figures, plus the star charts that indicate a date just over a year ago.” From an archeological perspective, the lack of context was as unusual as it was frustrating. “I can’t help but wonder if the Garrison is having more luck with these than I am.”

 

Across the table, Colleen stiffened, and Ryou belatedly remembered their conversation months earlier, about missing cadets and military cover ups, that had led to him suggesting this shack in the first place as somewhere she might find his brother’s ex-cadet friend. “You believe the Garrison knows about the cave?” she asked sharply.

 

“Pretty sure, yeah. Remember, this branch was only set up about 10 years ago. They spent years arguing over land rights for that patch of desert, which includes the area with the cave. Once they got it, though, one of the first things they did was go scouting around for archeologists for a private project. I wasn’t approached--too new to the field--but word gets around among scientists. Especially about military organizations waving around high-paying contracts full of NDAs. I don’t know who they ended up getting, but I have to assume they did find someone.”

 

Colleen pursed her lips and pulled out a notebook, flipping it open and making rapid notations in legal shorthand. “So they would have been anticipating some sort of event that night, if they interpreted the star charts. Possible cause for the Z9?” She speculated aloud, talking more to herself than to Ryou, who simply shrugged and topped up his coffee. “We should take a look at whatever’s down that hole. Chances are the Garrison already has, but it may give us more information about what they might have been preparing for that night.”

 

“I’ll get the gear ready.” He agreed, pushing himself to his feet and heading for the couch.

 

___________

 

“This hole is relatively new.” Ryou observed, crouching next to the opening and examining the unweathered edges of the stone. “Probably not much more than a year. Given how long Keith seems to have been gone, it probably wasn’t here when he was documenting the cave.”

 

Colleen paused in securing their climbing ropes around a smooth rock outcropping. “A year, huh? Funny how that number keeps popping up.” She scowled, giving the rope a last tug to tighten the knot before pulling on her helmet over her short blonde hair. Even if she had been a believer in coincidences, they were well past ‘enemy action’ at this point.

 

Pushing himself to his feet, Ryou pushed his helmet on as well. “You got me there. Missing cadets, an unexplained military lockdown, ancient cave drawings, a hole where there didn’t used to be one, the same time frame cropping up over and over...I feel like I’m in a mystery story. The question is, is it Scooby Doo or Dan Brown? Because, you know, there’s a big difference there, when it comes to our chances of survival.” Double-checking his harness, he moved back to the edge of the hole. “Ready to go, Velma?” He joked.

 

“Born ready, Shaggy.” Colleen taunted back. “Lead the way.” As eager as she was to see what was down there, Ryou was by far the more experienced cave diver no matter how adventurous she’d been in her teenage years, so she monitored the ropes and pulleys while he rappelled down into the darkness. Soon even the glow of his headlamp was lost to view, leaving her with only the mysterious drawings and the faint light of the afternoon sun for company.

 

Finally she felt three sharp tugs on the rope in her hands, the signal for her to go ahead and follow him down. Slipping over the edge, she made her way down the surprisingly smooth chute, listening to the sound of water far below get louder with each drop. Before she knew it she was rappelling alongside an underground stream that was just a few degrees of slope shy of being a waterfall, the spray soaking her clothes and filling the air with a slight mist. With a final splash she hit bottom in a waist-deep pool and turned to accept Ryou’s hand to pull herself out. The younger man looked even more excited than he had the day he arrived at the shack and saw the photos on the conspiracy board.

 

“This place is  _ incredible _ !” He exclaimed without preamble, pulling her toward the high-powered lantern sitting on the floor of the cavern a short distance away, casting yellow light over the rocky walls. “I’ve never seen anything like it! The language is like nothing I’ve ever seen, it bears no resemblance to any known language on the planet, even though it’s clearly far more developed than anything that should have existed at the time--going on the assumption this site predates other blue lion sites, I mean, which I think is most likely, and those sites are all at least 9000 years old…” He continued rambling as they came to a stop by the lantern and he gestured around them at the cave.

 

Colleen followed his gesture and her jaw dropped. The cavern was huge, one wall a sloped pile of rubble as though part of the ceiling had collapsed. Under their feet, a massive circular engraving that had to be sixty feet across spread out around them, the thick lines cut cleanly into the stone and crawling up massive slabs at three points on the edges of the circle. And beyond that, writing in an elegant, curling script covered a large portion of the wall in straight, clean lines like a manuscript page written in rock, complete with colourful pictographic representations in the margins.

 

“Holy  _ shit _ .” She breathed, letting out a shaky laugh. “Ryou, I think we’re gonna need a  _ lot _ more coffee.”

 

__________

 

The change in brightness had Coran sitting up and stretching even before the lights had fully reached their day shift illumination levels, a habit left over from his days as a soldier that Alfor and Linnata had never managed to cure him of, much to their frequent annoyance in the mornings. An equally habitual quick glance about him confirmed that yes, he was still in the same place he’d fallen asleep in, and showed that he was, for possibly the first time in the last cycle, the first one awake.

 

With the ease of long practice he disentangled himself from the young Princess’s wayward limbs and got to his feet without disturbing either her or Kurogane, whose back had been pressed up against him as he spooned protectively around Alejandro. Further around the circle, he could see Hunk snoring softly as he lay back-to-back with Lance, whose legs were tangled with Keith’s in a way that was sure to result in lost circulation for both of them and whose arm was being clung to where it was flung across the red paladin’s chest. Coran chuckled,twirling his moustache thoughtfully as he glanced back and forth between the younger pair and their older counterparts. Maybe they’d get there sooner than they realized.

 

In the last section of the circle he could see the two Holts and Shiro, all deeply asleep. The green paladin was pressed tightly to her brother’s chest, the elder holding her tightly, and the black paladin was a protective wall curled around Matt’s back. But not touching it, Coran realized with a frown. He’d seen the guilt in the eldest paladin’s dark eyes yesterday every time he looked at his friend, despite the absence of any animosity on the part of the younger male. Hopefully they would find time to sit down and have a long talk in private, to clear the air between them. Those two had suffered enough without adding a self-made rift on top of everything else.

 

Surveying the group one last time, the Altean’s eyes lit up. Moving silently, he went to the couch and retrieved a discarded data tablet. Holding it up, he captured several pictures of the sleepers, from several different angles, taking care to get close-ups of both of the red-blue pairs and the cuddled siblings. Moments like this, with everyone temporarily at peace, were to be treasured and the memory of them hoarded against darker times ahead.

 

Satisfied, he returned the tablet to the couch and left the room, intent on attempting one of Hunk’s recipes--the things that boy could do with standard rations and a handful of ingredients was absolutely incredible!--before the others awoke for breakfast.

 

________

 

The smell of pancakes and the sound of soft whispers and giggles woke Lance from a sound sleep, making him scrunch his face in an annoyed frown without opening his eyes. He’d been having such a good dream, too! Kinda weird, but good, and a nice change from the nightmares. The whole team had been there, and nothing bad had happened at all. A fresh wave of pancake-smell wafted into his nose, and Lance tried to sit up.

 

Tried being the operative word. He only got about halfway before whatever was pinning his arm pulled him back down, and his legs didn’t seem to want to cooperate either. Lance hit the pillows again with a loud protest that turned the giggles into raucous laughter, and his eyes flew open as he tried to figure out what the hell was going on. Had Zelia duct taped him to the bed again?

 

Instead of a giggling sister, the blue paladin found himself nose-to-nose with Keith and being treated to an excellent view of the Korean’s unfairly pretty dark purple eyes and long black eyelashes, which were just blinking open in sleepy confusion, and the wayward strands of silky hair, mussed from sleep, trailing across the pale skin of the other boy’s cheeks.

 

Lance masterfully fought down the urge to gently brush the soft black hair back out of the way, but failed entirely at suppressing the massive blush that absolutely  _ burned _ across his entire face or the strangled noise that erupted from his throat that his family back on earth would have rightfully interpreted as ‘holy shit I am way too bisexual for this.’

 

This only served to intensify the laughter, and his head jerked around until he spotted the rest of the team,  _ all _ of them, the dirty traitors, watching him and Keith and laughing. Beside him, the red paladin made a confused noise and finally relinquished the death grip on Lance’s arm that had kept him from sitting up before. Still blushing--god, he could even feel it in his  _ ears _ \--the lanky teen quickly righted himself and extricated his legs from the other paladin’s, hissing and massaging them carefully when he felt the tingle of circulation slowly returning.

 

“Morning, sleepyheads.” Shiro greeted them, looking far, far too pleased about Lance’s mortification. He waved a plate of lime green pancakes at them, shoving a forkful in his mouth. “Breakfast?”

 

“You all  _ suck _ .” Lance declared flatly, reaching for a plate and scooping several pancakes onto it. Looking around, he grabbed the bottle of not-syrup Hunk had stockpiled months ago and thoroughly drowned his food in the pale pink stuff. “Jerks, all of you.”

 

Hunk chuckled. “Come on, man, none of us were gonna wake you up out of the first nightmare-free sleep you’ve had in like a week and a half.” At Lance’s deadpan glare, he simply grinned mischievously. “Watching you and Keith cuddle in your sleep was just a bonus.”

 

The blue paladin huffed, shoving a large forkful of fluffy pastry in his mouth and pointedly not looking at Keith as the other joined them, yawning and stretching before accepting his own plateful of pancakes from Kurogane. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, Hunk was right about this being the first good night’s sleep he’d had in ages. Rather than argue the point, he looked around at the others. Hunk had resumed talking to Coran about the Altean’s successful efforts with the pancakes, giving him more tips and pointers, and Pidge was grinning at Matt’s blissful expression as he savoured the taste of earth-like food. Even Alejandro and Kurogane looked happier than he’d ever seen them, engaged in quiet conversation over their food, and as he watched his future self pressed a soft kiss to the other’s cheek, drawing a soft blush. Lance sighed, letting his annoyance go and concentrating on his breakfast. It was hard to stay mad when everyone around him was so happy for once. In the back of his head, Blue purred softly.

 

__________

 

As the Long Wind’s star map burst to life in the huge planning room, Pidge’s jaw dropped. She had always found the Castle’s map impressive, but this...galaxies spread out around them in every direction, tiny sections colour coded and marked with tags in alien script whose meaning she could only guess at. Even as she watched, Shiiar’keh growled rapid commands, apparently importing updated data on Empire troop movements collected by Icebringer scouts from dozens of different ships.

 

When Allura had requested access to the resistance’s data on troop dispositions so they could begin planning a strategy to bring down the Empire, the H’ress had done them one better. All around them were the Long Wind’s various tactical and strategic specialists, ranging from Gra’shehn and Shiiar’keh themselves to a massive Galra that reminded her of Antok to an aquatic alien that faintly resembled an otter resting four of their eight elbows on the edge of a water-filled access tank off to one side.

 

“The scouts report considerable unscheduled troop movements over the last several rotations. Newly-weakened areas are indicated in green, newly-strengthened in red.” Shiiar’keh was explaining as the relevant sections of the map glowed a brighter shade for easy locating.

 

A Bytor across the room crossed her arms, frowning. “Any correlation in the affected areas?”

 

Gra’shehn nodded, curved claws reaching into the hologram to touch several of the highlighted points. “All the Almathium mines have had their defenses strengthened considerably. At this point we don’t know if that is in response to our attack on the 12-P3-Y mine, or if the unexpected strength was part of these movements rather than anticipation of our attack.”

 

“Either way, it will make it significantly more difficult to reduce their supplies of Almathium.” Allura said grimly, narrowing her eyes at the indicated locations. “I had hoped to cripple their ability to power the ion cannons as a starting point, but if that’s not going to be an option…”

 

Matt limped forward, staring at the star map intently. “Maybe it is…” Pidge blinked. Was it just her or was there a hint of respect in the way heads instantly turned to listen to her brother? “Shiiar’keh, how is the Almathium transported after it’s mined? Where does it go?”

 

The H’ress blinked two of their eyes slowly, then turned to the charts. A few keystrokes lit up four points in blue. “Druid wormholes to refineries at these points. After that it is distributed to shipyards in several twelves of galaxies for incorporation into the cannons.”

 

Matt was still staring consideringly at the map, and Coran stepped forward to put a hand on his shoulder. “Care to share your thoughts, lad?” The others were regarding him expectantly as well, making her brother blush as he realized it.

 

“Well, I was thinking…” He began hesitantly, until Shiiar’keh motioned for him to continue. “An army needs two things, really. Leadership, and resources. You could have the best leader in the universe and they won’t be able to do a thing without the right resources. And you all the resources in the world won’t save an army with an inept leader. Our end goal is to remove the leadership of the Empire, right?”

 

“That is the objective, yes.” Allura agreed, brows furrowing. Beside her, Coran looked impressed by his words.

 

“But we can’t do that yet. They’re too well-protected. So we need to reduce the effectiveness of their army, and that means going after their resources.”

 

Hunk frowned. “The Almathium’s too well-protected now, isn’t it? We can’t go after it.”

 

Matt shook his head, grinning. As he talked, he became more animated, gesturing with his hands. It reminded Pidge of how he’d been before Kerberos, always eager to talk about anything he found interesting. She’d seen him unintentionally captivate entire study groups with his lectures on the topic at hand, voice ringing out clearly through the room. “I’m not just talking about Almathium. There’s a lot of different types of resources, all of them crucial in their own ways. Manpower. Transportation. Infrastructure. Materials. Food. Cripple one, you cripple the entire system.”

 

Shiro stepped forward, eyes wide as he gazed up at the map. “Of course. And once the Empire’s been crippled, it’ll be that much easier to go after Haggar, Lotor, and Zarkon.”

 

“Exactly.” The elder Holt beamed up at his friend. “Look at that. Over two dozen heavily defended Almathium mines, but they all come together at just four refineries. They’ll still be heavily defended, but it’s fewer targets to attack. And the stuff’s transported by druid wormhole because of its importance, even though most of the Empire’s other supplies move by standard hyperdrive. That’s another resource choke point we should think about going after.”

 

“Whoa whoa whoa. You want us to attack the  _ druids _ ?” Lance exclaimed, going pale. “Do I need to explain to you why that is a very,  _ very _ bad idea?”

 

Matt shook his head. “I know it’s dangerous. But the druids constitute one of the most critical resources in the entire Empire, and it’s not because they’re dangerous in a fight. They’re critical as transportation.”

 

“Wormholes.” Someone breathed.

 

“Right.” The ginger gestured to the refineries again. “Without wormholes, cargo and troops are both limited to standard hyperdrive. No calling in emergency reinforcements mid-fight. No moving troops quickly to defend certain resources. Disruption of patrol lines as ships can’t quickly go to centralized depots for repairs or resupplies and then return to their posts. Loss of tactical options. Initial disruption of supply lines for anything important enough to be shipped by wormhole, like the Almathium. The repercussions are  _ endless _ .”

 

There was a stunned silence as everyone considered his words. Pidge looked up at her brother in shock. She’d always known he had a quick mind and razor-sharp intelligence--they were siblings, after all--but she hadn’t realized exactly how versatile it was. He was a good problem solver, and now that they’d turned him loose on the problem of how to defeat the Galra Empire, well...she glanced over at an equally shocked Alejandro and Kurogane and stiffened in realization. Of course Matt would decide the druids were a critical target. He’d done it before, hadn’t he? The other timeline’s Matt had made his last act a strike against the druids, an attempt to cripple a valuable resource in order to help the resistance.

 

Shiiar’keh stepped forward, barking out commands to the map. “Computer, indicate known locations of Empire druids, coded by size of group. Display core statistics of associated ships and planets.” The red, green, and blue highlighting of the previous conversation vanished, replaced by a rainbow of dots scattered amongst the stars and labelled with small tags of information.

 

“Difficult.” Another H’ress growled. “Very difficult. But the risk-reward balance is favourable.” They looked over at Matt. “There are too many targets to hit simultaneously. How do we prevent them from protecting their druids the way they did the Almathium?”

 

“That’s easy, we just gotta lay some false patterns overtop.” Pidge said immediately, reddening as several sets of eyes turned toward her instead. She cleared her throat and continued. “It means we need to disguise what we’re doing and make it look like we’re doing something else. When we go after the druids, we should also do something else with the same mission, and make that look like our real target. The druids will be afterthoughts, casualties in the fight. We didn’t set out to kill them, they just happened to get in our way.” She grinned. Sneakiness and covert operation were one of her specialties. “We also need to run missions against targets that don’t have druids, to correspond to the pattern of false objectives in the targets that do.”

 

Shiro nodded thoughtfully, considering the rainbow of colour-coded stars. “Prisoner rescues would probably be easiest, since we can’t be sure in advance what else is likely to be on each ship otherwise without endangering the Blade by asking for too much privileged information. And it’ll make it less obvious that we’re changing tactics, since we were doing that already.”

 

“We’ll need to coordinate with other packs to make our strikes.” Shiiar’keh mused, pulling open the data tags on several of the lights to reveal writing in angular H’ress’wr symbols. “Many of them are stationed on command vessels amidst sector fleets that they are responsible for transporting.”

 

“Randomized strikes will be optimal, to avoid patterns that can be predicted.” The otter suggested, pushing themselves up against the edge of the tank to see better, his tail thrashing the water.

 

Suggestions and strategies flew thick and fast across the room. Flaws were found and ideas modified to patch vulnerabilities. Others were combined, pulled apart, mixed again in different ways. Pidge couldn’t help but be surprised at how different the whole set-up was from how Humans would have gone about it. On Earth, only a few people would have been in charge of putting together the strategy that would guide thousands or even millions. Here, everyone was free to contribute and their ideas were taken into consideration, although she did notice that some individuals were given attention more immediately when they spoke. The aquatic alien was deferred to for fighter-ship strategies, the large Galra for ideas on the ground penetration of Empire ships. Shiiar’keh, Gra’shehn, and, oddly, Matt seemed to receive the most pronounced level of respect from the others in the room, and she made a note to ask Alejandro and Kurogane later about how hierarchy worked amongst the Icebringers.

 

Looking around, she spotted the two over by the wall, mostly silent as they watched the chaotic discussion. To her surprise, they both looked oddly emotional, Alejandro tucked under Kurogane’s arm and the taller leaning his head against the other’s. Frowning in concern, she cast one more protective glance at Matt, engaged in an animated discussion of drone-to-soldier ratios with Shiro and a metallic humanoid, before slipping through the crowd toward them. “You guys okay?” She asked quietly, settling against the wall beside Alejandro.

 

They both startled, pulling apart slightly as they looked over at her in surprise. “...yeah.” Alejandro said slowly, lifting his head to look at the star map overhead, gaze fixed on some distant point. “It’s just...a lot to take in, y’know?”

 

“I...what? The fact that we’re going to kick Empire ass?” Pidge asked uncertainly. Lance’s wildly veering trains of thought, and by extension Alejandro’s, had always given her difficulties, especially when they involved emotions and social interactions rather than technology or even strategy. “Sorry, I’m not sure what you’re referring to.”

 

Kurogane chuckled, tactfully ignoring the redness in her cheeks. “‘S fine, Pidge. Holt never got the hang of figuring out his non-sequiturs either.”

 

“You were close, though.” Alejandro gave the green paladin a fond smile that eased her embarrassment somewhat. “I just meant...less than a twelve of rotations ago, there was nothing left. No family, no home, no hope. It was over. And now…” He took a deep breath, eyes suspiciously wet. “We have a home. We have a  _ family _ again.” He directed a smile at an oblivious Lance that was so heavy with gratitude she had to look away. “And now there’s a plan, a strategy, that might make all the difference. We could actually  _ win _ this.” The tall man’s voice shook with emotion, and she realized exactly how much that victory would mean to him.

 

For her, and for the other paladins, winning the war meant safety for their families. It meant people helped, evil stopped, and for her and Shiro and Matt, payback for the pain they’d suffered and the death of her father. For Coran and Allura, as well as for the Icebringers, it was vengeance for the deaths of millions and the destruction of a world, a culture, a home. But for Kurogane and Alejandro, it was even more than that. For them it was trillions of lives saved on worlds they knew by name, endless suffering averted that they hadn’t been able to prevent, and, most of all, the ghosts of all those they’d lost finally laid to rest. Only once the war was over, with Haggar, Zarkon, Lotor, and all they’d done finally ended, only then would the last two paladins of a doomed future be able to lay down their burdens and truly mourn their dead.

 

“There’s no ‘might’ or ‘could’ about it.” Pidge declared firmly, reaching up to poke Alejandro’s cheek. Startled, the former blue paladin looked down at her, eyes wide. “This strategy  _ will _ make a difference, and we  _ will _ win this. It’s going to go differently this time around, just you watch. We’ll stop Lotor, stop Haggar, finish taking out Zarkon, and take apart the entire Galra Empire without losing  _ anyone _ .” Staring up at him for a moment, she abruptly threw her arms around both of them in a hug, drawing a surprised noise from Kurogane before he slowly put a hand on her shoulder. “Everyone you lost, their sacrifices aren’t going to be in vain. All that pain, it led to here, right? To a place where you can make sure everyone makes it through this.”

 

She felt Kurogane’s hesitation through the stiffness of his body. “Your dad…”

 

“Was  _ not _ your fault. Dad was...he didn’t even make it through the first year, Matt says. Shiro was still in captivity, and none of us were paladins yet. There’s nothing you could have done.” Swallowing hard and blinking back the tears that always pricked at her eyes when she thought of her father, she gave Kurogane a watery smile. “I forgive you.” Then, thinking for a moment of her alternate self, who had never seen any of her family again, “ _ we _ forgive you.”

 

The man let out a strangled noise before Pidge found herself abruptly engulfed in a tight embrace, his face buried in her hair and his body trembling. Awkwardly she patted his back, hearing Alejandro murmuring soft reassurances and a quiet ‘I  _ told _ you’ that made her feel a surge of relief for her decision to come and talk to the two. These two had enough weight on their shoulders without her adding to it with her temper.

 

Pulling back, she grabbed for both their hands. “Come on, you two know more about how Empire fleets fight than almost anyone here. You need to be part of this planning session.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pro-tip, kiddos, never try to write a massive, canon-twisting fic without watching the canon more than once. You WILL forget something, it WILL conflict with something you've planned, and you WILL spend three days debating how to fix it. Thank god for my 4-chapter editing buffer, that's all I can say. Although in my defense, the thing I forgot was something that seems to have been swept under the rug and forgotten by basically the entire fandom.
> 
> Also, with all the new content from SDCC, please remember that this story is officially canon divergence. I've tagged it accordingly, and I'll be continuing with things as I had them planned. That means for things like Shiro's bayard, even if the relevant chapter doesn't drop until after season 3 goes up, it's probably not going to match canon except by freak coincidence.

Hunk swallowed nervously as he stared out through Yellow’s screens at the small fleet of Empire ships ahead of them that were slowly settling into orbit around the orange gas giant. A single command battlecruiser, where the officer in charge of this group would be based along with the druid who served as Haggar’s eyes and ears in this region of space. One dreadnought, slower and heavier and setting the pace for the rest of the group, but carrying heavy weapons that packed even more punch than a standard ion cannon. And half a dozen mid-sized assault ships. A fairly standard group when it came to the Empire’s border patrols, enough to quickly subjugate anything less than a full space-faring civilization, put down a rebellion, or stall attackers long enough for reinforcements to be summoned if needed.

 

The yellow paladin was all too aware that they fell squarely into that last category, and that the whole objective of the mission was to keep them from getting reinforcements at all.

 

The mission was a test run, the result of three days of planning and discussion amongst hundreds of people on dozens of ships, to give the strategy a field test and see where improvements could be made before they scaled up to larger fleets. That was why they’d chosen a small target, out on the fringes of the Empire, far from prying eyes and ears. Even if the ships managed to get off an alarm signal by hyperwave, and there wasn’t much hope of preventing that, it would take hours for it to reach help, and by the time anyone arrived the alliance expected to be long gone.

 

Squinting against the glare of the brilliant blue dwarf star nearby, Hunk checked on the positions of the rest of the assault team. The rest of the Lions hung close by, floating silently under the cover of a small moon. Other moons provided cover for the myriad fighters that belonged to the Long Wind and the Cracking Glacier, the two ships that had been chosen for this attack. In theory, the two should be enough to keep the attention of the fleet and not be an obvious distraction, but not so much that the commander was likely to consider them a threat they couldn’t handle alone.

 

The coms crackled. “ _ H’ress’wr _ !” The now-familiar hunt cry was the signal he’d been waiting for, and he flipped the switch on Yellow’s cloaking device as his teammates did the same before breaking cover, plunging through space toward the command ship. All around him, the uncloaked fighter craft surged forward, opening fire on the Empire ships as they did so. Hunk was grateful for the gravity anchors as they helped him avoid several collisions from allies unable to see him as they dodged and wove in evasive patterns as the enemy finally overcame their surprise and returned the assault.

 

After a few minutes of tension and jerky flying, the teen felt Yellow’s claws dig into the metal of the command ship as he secured his hold, crouching to rip open the outer doors of the airlock positioned neatly between his front paws. In short order the Lion’s airlock was connected with that of the ship, allowing safe passage for the unsuited prisoners that were his group’s target. “Yellow in position.” He called over the coms. They were keeping their transmission to a minimum during this phase of the mission, hoping to operate in stealth mode for as long as possible. He missed his teammates’ voices, though, it was reassuring knowing he wasn’t alone out here.

 

_ “Black in position.” _ Even if they hadn’t been running cloaked, Hunk wouldn’t have been able to see Black from here. Shiro was accessing another airlock on the other side of the ship to get at the other prisoner bay since Black and Yellow were the two largest Lions, with the greatest capacity for passengers.

 

_ “Green in position.” _ Pidge’s voice was calm and cold, making Hunk shiver. Ever since finding Matt and learning about her father’s death, the tiny green paladin had been itching for a fight with the Galra Empire, chafing at every delay in planning their first strike. He knew he could count on her to complete her assignment, taking over the communications and security systems once she’d penetrated the ship through the spot on the belly that was closest to the main computer room, but after that, he wasn’t sure she’d stay put, and hoped it wouldn’t result in problems.

 

_ “Red and Blue in position.” _ Keith and Lance, entering together from amidships, had arguably the most dangerous job. Once Pidge had taken control of the systems, she was supposed to find and monitor the locations of the druid, the commander, and any other major threats, with the druid being highest priority. If the druid tried to leave the ship to get reinforcements, or approached any of the others, it would be the red and blue paladins who were responsible for engaging them in a fight. They had a ground team with them as back-up, but when it came down to it, the paladins were the ones best equipped to go toe-to-toe with a druid.

 

_ “Begin penetration.” _ Shiro ordered firmly. Hunk was on his feet in a moment, jogging to the airlock as his ground team fell in behind him. Half a dozen assorted aliens, all quick and strong enough to carry injured prisoners or hold their own in a fight and dressed in the orange-and-navy combat suits and grey armor of the Icebringers. They waited, ready to move in as soon as Pidge gave the all-clear.

 

It wasn’t long in coming, his younger teammate’s voice coming clearly now that they didn’t have to worry about interception.  _ “I have coms locked down, cameras looping. Hunk, Shiro, you guys are clear. Commander and druid are on the main deck monitoring the battle. Standard sentry patrols, but only in the main hallways. Must’ve diverted most of them to fighters. I’ll keep you advised.” _

 

Quickly, Hunk cracked the airlock, his team darting out into the dark hallway of the Galra vessel. Taking a moment to orient himself to his memory of the blueprints they’d studied of the blueprints of Empire battlecruisers--there was something to be said for mass-production, Kolivan had commented when he transmitted the information to them at their request--he set off down the hallway with his bayard at the ready. He was the first line of defense for his group, and he refused to be caught off-guard.

 

This was hardly his first time sneaking onto an Empire ship, but somehow, today it felt as nerve-wracking as if it were the first time all over again. Maybe it was the way the ship shuddered and shook occasionally under his feet as it took fire from the Icebringer ships. Maybe it was the deep blood-red of the combat lighting inside the ship, making it harder to see and setting his nerves on edge. Or maybe it was the knowledge that at some point today he would be, willingly and deliberately, going after a Druid, the most dangerous class of soldiers in the Empire. Even the  Empire’s Galra soldiers were afraid of them, and with good reason. He took a deep breath, held it, then let it out slowly. One job at a time. He could worry about fighting the Druid after they got the prisoners out.

 

_ “Hunk, sentry patrol from your left in 20.” _ Pidge’s voice crackled warningly in his ear making him jump. Fumbling for a moment, he made a recently-learned hand signal that had the others ducking into the shadows with practiced ease. The yellow paladin quickly concealed himself as well, counting half-seconds on his own rapid pulse until the patrol came and went. Once the coast was clear once more, the group continued onward. The doors to the prison section whirred open at their approach thanks to Pidge, and Hunk stepped through cautiously, swallowing hard.

 

He hated this, seeing the way the Empire treated those they took as slaves. Grouped anywhere from three to six per cell, gaunt and scarred under the tight purple body-suits that marked them as prisoners, and all looking at them with terror in their eyes. For prisoners of the Empire, Shiro had explained once, there was safety in the routine, in knowing what to expect each day even if that was pain and suffering. And a group of non-Galra in strange armor bursting into the prison bay was definitely not part of the routine on this ship.

 

“It’s okay. We’re with the resistance, and we’re here to get you out of here. Don’t be scared.” Hunk quickly moved to the closest cell, pulling open the door that Pidge had already unlocked remotely. He could hear her in his headset, talking to Keith and Lance about the locations of patrols, and tuned her out for the moment. “Does anyone here need help walking?”

 

It took almost ten minutes to organize the fifty or so prisoners for the trip back to the Yellow Lion, and Hunk bit his lip anxiously, nausea coiling in his gut. Getting a group of six experienced soldiers through the maze of hallways without being caught was one thing. How he was going to get fifty scared, injured prisoners, four of them being carried by the aforementioned soldiers, back the other way was a logistical nightmare he wasn’t sure he could handle. But there was nothing to be done but try.

 

For the first few minutes, everything went smoothly. They crept along one section of corridor at a time, the yellow paladin checking around corners before waving the group forward. His hands were white-knuckled where they gripped the handles of his cannon, ready for use at a moment’s notice. Then:

 

_ “Fuck! Hunk! Look out!” _

 

The patrol, live soldiers this time instead of robotic sentries, turned a blind corner and ended up practically on top of them, five prisoners back from the front of the line, halting in shock and confusion at the sight of half the ship’s complement of prisoners clustered in the hallway accompanied by several beings who were neither Galra nor prisoner.

 

There was no time to hesitate. Hunk whipped around and fired, once. One of the two soldiers was sent flying by the force of the blast, hitting the wall and crumpling in a spray of blood that had the teen fighting desperately not to be sick. Killing was a fact of war. It didn’t mean he had to hate it any less.

 

The second soldier yelled in shock, turning and trying to run down the hallway they had come out of. In a blur of white and navy, one of the two Icebringers not carrying injured prisoners charged forward, the H’ress’s powerful legs covering the distance in an instant. The Galra only made it a few steps, still shouting into their coms, before having their throat ripped out by the hunter’s claws. Bile burned in the back of Hunk’s throat, and he looked away. 

 

_ “Hunk, everyone okay?” _ That was Shiro, the black paladin’s voice bringing him roughly back down to earth. Later. He could be sick with guilt later. Right now their stealth had just been blown and he still had prisoners to get to safety. 

 

“Y-yeah. Yeah, we’re okay.” He managed to choke out, swallowing hard to get the nausea under control.

 

_ “Sorry, I was trying to keep Keith out of trouble and I lost track of those two.” _ Pidge at least sounded guilty for endangering them.

 

“It’s fine, Pidge.” Back to the task at hand. Dispensing with caution in favour of speed, he picked up the pace, going as fast as the prisoners he was leading could manage. They were all too aware of the urgency of the situation, stumbling after him and looking around fearfully as the alarms began to sound, pulses of brighter red in the crimson gloom. The yellow paladin could hear Pidge on the coms, frantically directing Keith and Lance’s team to intercept the druid who was apparently now headed his way, and Shiro promising back-up as soon as he had his own group to safety. Just as they turned the last corner and the open airlock came into view, the sound of blaster fire echoed through the hallways from some point further ahead.

 

Hunk hesitated for a moment. The desire to go and help his friends warred with his duty to the prisoners he was evacuating. But his bayard wasn’t suited for going up against a druid, especially not with his teammates in the line of fire, and he knew it. Firmly, he turned away from the direction of the sound of fighting and started ushering the frightened prisoners up Yellow’s ramp toward the passenger bay. “Make sure they’re all strapped in good and tight.” He warned the H’ress bringing up the rear, trying not to look at the red streaks on their claws. “The flight out’s probably gonna get rough.”

 

They gave a single sharp nod, waving a hand towards the sounds of battle. “I will cover the Lion. Go help your pack.” 

 

Not needing to be told twice, the yellow paladin whirled and ran down the hall, reaching for the comforting mental touch of Yellow to steady himself. “Prisoners loaded. On my way!”

 

_ “Am I ever glad to hear that, buddy!” _ Lance sounded out of breath, but Hunk was relieved to hear no panic in his voice. He could hear occasional blaster shots close to the mic, and the blue paladin’s heavy breathing, but nothing beyond that.  _ “Witchy lady won’t sit still and let us shoot her. Quiznacking rude if you ask me.” _

 

_ “No one did, Lance.” _ Pidge joked.  _ “You’re almost there, Hunk. Careful on the next corner, you’ll be right on top of them. Shiro’s two minutes out.” _

 

Hunk adjusted his grip on his bayard, now able to hear the scrape of armor against the metal walls of the ship, undoubtedly Keith as he engaged the Druid in a head-on fight. “Thanks, Pidge. Keith, get down!” He raised his voice in a shout, throwing himself around the corner and opening fire and trusting the warning would be enough for his friends and allies to get themselves out of the way in time.

 

With no opportunity to aim, he only managed to clip the druid a glancing blow, sending her spinning away from him and clutching at her burned shoulder as she whirled to face the new threat. Her momentary distraction cost her, though, as two of the Icebringers who were teamed up with the red and blue paladins seized the opening and lunged, a massive Galra slamming her into the wall hard enough to make bones crack audibly while another, smaller alien whose species Hunk didn’t know put their blaster to the now-trapped druid’s head and pulled the trigger. Red sprayed the wall, and when the Galra pulled back, the druid hit the ground and didn’t rise again.

 

Hunk looked away, nausea rising in his throat again, and found himself meeting the eyes of a Lance who looked as pale as he felt. There was no time to commiserate over the necessity of cold-blooded killing, however, as Pidge’s voice cut in again over their helmet coms.  _ “Guys, we got problems. The commander’s pulling back fighters to put more troops back on the ship. I guess he realized the Icebringers aren’t going to actually destroy his ships as long as it’s still got friendlies aboard. We need to get out of here before we get overrun.” _

 

_ “Head back to your Lions, guys.” _ Shiro cut in, voice firm as he gave out orders.  _ “We got the prisoners and the druid, and those were the important targets. Hunk, you and me are to get the prisoners out and back to safety, the rest of you join the fight and help disable the ships.” _

 

“You got it, Shiro.” Lance said, clearing his throat to get his voice under control. “See you on the Long Wind, guys.” The blue paladin flashed his friend a grin as he took off down the hallway with Keith and the rest of their small group.

 

“Stay safe, you two.” Hunk called after them before turning on his heel and running back the way he’d come. Even without Pidge to give him directions, the green paladin already pulling out to get back to her own Lion and escape, he could feel Yellow’s firm pull guiding him easily back to the airlock and he concentrated on that to take his mind off the memory of sprays of crimson against purple walls. The H’ress hunter retreated up the ramp ahead of him when he arrived, turning down toward the passenger hold while the paladin continued up to the cockpit. Even as he threw himself into the seat, the Lion was already leaping starward as the cloak finally powered down.

 

Instantly they were in the thick of the aerial battle, laser fire flashing past in every direction. Hunk was flung around in his harness as he tried to avoid the heavier cannon blasts, and desperately hoped the rescued prisoners were properly secured in the netting that served as a one-size-fits-all seatbelt in the hold as Yellow’s gravity anchors surged with power. If it hadn’t been for the anchors, he would have been knocked ass-over-teakettle by laser fire more than once, and as it was the Lion shook frequently from glancing blows. As they dodged and wove he caught brief glimpses of the other Lions, Black up ahead of him with her load of passengers, Green shielding damaged fighters long enough for them to retreat, Blue carving a path of destruction through the enemy’s small craft, and Red little more than an afterimage as she tore past under the power of her new boosters to rip her opponents apart with her bare claws.

 

A brilliant flash out of the corner of his eye caught his attention and he turned to see that the main battlecruiser’s engine modules had been destroyed, reduced to a slowly-cooling patch of glowing scrap metal at one end of the hull. Something in his gut untwisted with relief as the engines of one of the assault ships followed suit, followed by another. They may have killed those two soldiers, and the druid, but they weren’t going to slaughter everyone on the Empire ships simply because they could. Distantly he remembered a conversation during the planning of the attack, about the final phase of the assault and what to do with the ships one they’d been cleared of prisoners and druids. Allura had suggested simply forming Voltron to destroy the enemy ships, but, to her surprise and that of the Humans, the Icebringers had flatly refused.

 

_ “In war, as in life, death and killing are sometimes necessary to maintain the balance of the world.” _ Shiiar’keh had explained, making a gesture with both front hands that remind Hunk of an old-fashioned set of scales wobbling back and forth.  _ “A hunted ssh’ohl provides food for the pack. A druid eliminated limits the damage a fleet can do. And yes, often a battleship destroyed can ensure the safety of a ship or planet. But needless slaughter is against all balance, and there will be enough lives ended in this war without killing those we can afford to spare. We have more than enough power available to us to disable a small patrol fleet rather than destroy it, and transport them to a distant region of the universe and leave them their lives, Princess Allura, and that is what we will do unless they give us no other choice. Otherwise, how are we any better than they?” _

 

The crackle of a stray shot against armor shook Hunk from his memories, Yellow growling in mild reproach. With a last glance back at the Empire ships, whose guns were falling silent now under the precision fire of the Long Wind, the Cracking Glacier, and four of their sister ships who had joined them for the final phase of the fight, the yellow paladin poured power into the Yellow Lion’s boosters and shot toward the Long Wind’s hangar and safety for those who had been prisoners aboard the ship he had left behind him.

 

________

 

The beep of an incoming transmission jolted Haggar out of her contemplation of the remains of her latest experiment, the heavily-modified corpse of what had once been an Olkari spread across the metal table in front of her. Already frustrated by the way the species’ natural affinity for green quintessence conflicted with her mechanical enhancements, resulting in the total failure of three successive test subjects, the new interruption only served to infuriate her further. The head druid slammed a hand down on the com panel, snarling “This had better be very important for you to interrupt me while I am working.”

 

The way the hapless communications officer on the other side of the screen visibly cringed at her tone helped mollify her somewhat. “V-Very sorry, Lady Haggar, but we’ve received a transmission from the main base in the Vreltan sector. They said it was extremely urgent that you see it.” He swallowed hard, ears pinned back to the sides of his head in obvious anxiety as the probable bearer of bad news. “It...it apparently concerns Voltron. And their allies.”

 

Haggar frowned, to the great dismay of the unlucky soldier who had drawn short straw to pass along the message. Voltron? In the Vreltan sector? And with allies? There was nothing of interest out there, unless a patrol had somehow stumbled across a rebel stronghold. Something strange was going on, and she didn’t like it. “Send the recording through.” She snapped. “And if it’s not as urgent as they’ve claimed…” The Altean resisted the urge to laugh at the way the Galra cringed and hastily sent the file through the connection, all the while muttering apologies for disturbing her and saluting repeatedly. The connection broke off and she turned her attention to the transmission from Vreltan main base.

 

The transmission turned out to consist of a short text file a and a video recording. The first was an explanation: a patrol fleet in an isolated area of the sector had been ambushed by a group of rebels, who broke into the ships and liberated the prisoners on board. Some quick-thinker on one of the assault ships had begun their own broadcast of their view of the fight under the, apparently correct, assumption that the battlecruiser’s transmissions had been compromised. Shortly after, the transmission cut off, but not before it was seen that the Voltron Lions were present and cooperating with the rebels. The fate of the patrol fleet was unknown, as there’d been no sign of them in the area where the signal had originated besides a small amount of battle-debris, but it was presumed to have been destroyed.

 

Her anger returned ten-fold at the impudence of the attackers, Haggar turned her attention to the video file, a copy of the transmission received from the lost assault ship. Calling it up on a larger holoscreen, she hit the playback and fixed her attention on the screen.

 

At first, all she could see was a maze of fighters darting this way and that, Galra craft interspersed with the mismatched vessels of the attackers in a frantic firefight. A thick bolt of purple lanced across the screen, cannon fire from the dreadnought somewhere out of frame, and the fighters of both sides swerved to avoid it. Through the gap she caught a momentary glimpse of another craft silhouetted against the nearby gas giant, and snarled. Icebringers. Only H’ress camouflaged their vessels with star patterns like those. It seemed the snow-walkers and their fellow refugees were continuing to be a nuisance, even though ten thousand year should have been enough to teach them that they had no hope of winning against the might of the Empire.

 

She quickly lost sight of the vessel through the chaos of the battle, and a moment later was distracted by bright streaks of colour peeling away from the cruiser. Increasing the magnification confirmed that yes, those were indeed the Voltron Lions. If Voltron and the Icebringers were working together, they might have the potential to become an actual problem, albeit a small one. It was fortunate indeed that Prince Lotor was not hindered by his father’s obsession with the Black Lion. Haggar knew she could count on him to take the matter seriously and do what was necessary to eliminate the threat.

 

Watching the movement of the bright streaks against the purple of Galra vessels and the navy of Icebringer craft, she frowned. Something about the movement of the Yellow Lion...it was too jerky. Stopping abruptly and changing direction, something the heavy machine should not have been capable of. Pausing the recording on a frame with the Lion clearly visible, she increased the magnification as much as she could and studied the image, fingers drumming irritably on the edge of the console.

 

As Haggar’s gaze landed on the Yellow Lion’s legs, she froze.

 

Thick silver hoops, mounted at the ankles and glowing with energy, gravitational lensing warping the image of anything that would have normally shown through the openings. Gravity anchors. Quickly, she moved to examine another still frame. The Blue Lion appeared unchanged, but the Red, once she finally found a clear enough image, carried unmistakable ion boosters mounted on her shoulders, alight with energy as she blazed across the battlefield. Haggar didn’t bother checking Green or Black, instead leaning back and staring at the screen in trepidation.

 

The aspects. Somehow those pathetic, primitive excuses for paladins were unlocking the aspects. Pushing away from the console, Haggar strode out of her laboratory and down the corridor of her ship, unconsciously radiating an aura of barely-controlled fury that sent even commanders scurrying to get out of her way. Any other day she would have enjoyed the terror she inspired in those under her command, but today, her mind was fixed entirely on the implications of the recording she had watched.

 

She was well aware that over the course of the last cycle, the current paladins had all managed to stumble across their natural elements and the weapons afforded by those aspects. But that was hardly cause for concern, the natural element was by far the easiest to learn for those rare individuals capable of it.  _ Vrekt _ , even most of those worthless apprentices had managed that much, even without the full Lion-bond. And while they had managed one of the physical analogues some time earlier as well, they hadn’t seemed to realize afterwards what they had done and there’d been no repetition of the incident. But the gravity anchors and the ion boosters were the manifestation of the combative characteristic, which should have been considerably harder for them to come across accidentally. And for at least two of them to have done it, in such a short span of time, suggested that they had been told about the aspects and were now actively trying to learn to use them.

 

Which meant that the paladins of Voltron, if left to their own devices to continue to learn the aspects, could potentially become a major threat to the Empire, and that was something they could ill-afford to ignore.

 

The guards outside the throne room flinched away as she strode between them, flinging open the doors ahead of her with a push of quintessence. Inside, a kneeling commander who had been giving her report glanced over her shoulder, paled, and instantly fell silent, dropping her gaze to the floor.

 

“Leave.” Haggar hissed.

 

The commander was only too eager to comply, saluting hastily and giving the head druid a wide berth as she made her escape. The lean figure on the throne merely chuckled, resting his chin in the palm of one hand as he regarded Haggar curiously. “Something on your mind, my lady?” He asked, twirling a lock of white hair lazily between his fingers.

 

She nodded stiffly, and his playful smirk dropped instantly as he straightened. “We have a very serious problem, my Prince.” Lotor listened attentively as she explained the situation, the recording from Vreltan sector and her observations, as well as the implications. Once she’d finished, he remained silent for several minutes, mulling it over. The Prince was a good leader. Lord Zarkon had chosen well.

 

Finally he spoke, eyes narrowed. “Find me all the data we have on the Paladins. Especially their leader, Champion.”

 

Haggar nodded, pleased. “As you wish, my Prince.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No warnings for this chapter.
> 
> Yes, this is a second chapter in two days. Makes up for how long 17 took to write. Enjoy~

Matt paused to wipe the sweat from his forehead as he tightened the splint wrap around the section of cracked exoskeleton. A few more careful adjustments and he was able to seal it, holding the damaged plates still while they healed. “There we go.” He shot a reassuring smile up at the insectoid alien he’d been helping. “Just go easy on that limb while it’s healing, okay? I don’t want to see you back in here because you overdid it and racked your splint.” The alien nodded effusively, chittering gratitude and reassurances in heavily-accented Galran that Matt just barely managed to interpret. “Glad to hear it. Head on over and get something to eat, okay? Then rest.” He waved his patient off toward the carts full of food bowls that had been set up at one side of the medical dormitory, heaving a weary sigh as they left.

 

“All done?” The unexpected voice beside him made him jump, and he whirled to find himself face to face with Shiro, who raised an eyebrow and held out a drink pack.

 

“ _ Vrekt _ , Takashi, don’t sneak up on me like that!” Matt grumbled, accepting the drink pack gratefully. He sighed, leaning against the edge of the medical cot in order to take some of his weight off his legs.

 

“Sorry.” Shiro chuckled, completely unrepentant. “Was that your last patient?” He asked, gesturing to the being Matt had been helping, now settled in with a group of other assorted aliens who had been rescued from the Empire battlecruiser as they ate their first decent meal in who-knew-how-long. 

 

The ginger nodded wearily, pushing his bangs back out of his face. “Yeah. There’s a few people still to be treated, but they’re species who need a doctor more experienced with their needs than I am, or they don’t speak Galran.” Looking over at the group on the other side of the room, he huffed a soft laugh. “You know, when I did my degrees in xenobiology and medicine, this is  _ not _ how I expected to end up using them.”

 

“What, you don’t like playing doctor to a thousand species of aliens?” Shiro teased, and Matt felt his heart speed up at the playful grin on the other man’s face.

 

Grinning back, he elbowed Shiro lightly in the side. “Better aliens than Humans. Aliens actually listen to their doctor’s instructions most of the time.” Pushing away from the wall, he shifted his weight and winced as the dull ache in his left knee turned to something sharper. “Speaking of doctor’s orders, I should go sit down for a while before Xel comes after me. I swear that woman has a sixth sense for disobedient patients, even if I’m technically not one anymore.”

 

“Who’s Xel?” Shiro asked curiously, staying close as Matt limped slowly out of the room and down the main hallway, leaning slightly against the wall for support. The paladin looked like he wanted to offer to help, but wasn’t sure how it would be received, so he settled for staying close and available. Another sharp stab of pain had Matt seriously considering asking the larger man to carry him, but he resisted. Shiro was already carrying enough needless guilt over the old injury, and anyway his quarters weren’t far away.

 

“A doctor. Hylathian species, one of the mer types. She came over from the Boiling Rock too.” He gestured overhead to one of the water-filled conduits that granted the water-based species mobility throughout the ship. “When I was first brought aboard the Boiling Rock, I was a scared, injured member of an unknown species who understood about five words of Galran, all of them commands, and no other known language. They assigned me a Hylathian doctor on the theory that I’d be less scared of someone who couldn’t move freely around the room, someone I could retreat from if I wanted to.”

 

“And did you?” 

 

Matt shrugged, pausing for a moment to rest his leg. “Only until I figured out she was a doctor. After that we got along great.” He grinned fondly at the memory. Xel had tried to convey what she wanted to do by using her handheld scanner on her own hand, then showing him the display. There’d been a lot of squinting and flinching involved until he cautiously came close enough to see what was clearly a medical read-out, upon which fear was usurped by curiosity. The following several hours had been spent teaching him a handful of Galran words while she examined his leg and eye, comparing them to the undamaged ones to assess the severity of the damage damage and he did his level best to learn the ins and outs of the scanner, the first alien tech other than his manacles he’d had the chance to see up close. “She’s a bit of a mom friend, to be honest. Always fussing over me, trying to make sure that I’m not missing anything I need to be healthy.”

 

Shiro chuckled. “I’m glad to hear that.” He said softly, pacing alongside as Matt started moving again. “It’s a relief to know that you’ve had people looking out for you.”

 

“Pack is family, and I’ve been considered part of the pack for quite a while now.” The younger explained, turning a corner and stopping in front of a door. The nameplate displayed his name, Matthew Holt, and his occupation aboard the ship, medic, in four different languages: the tangled curls of Altean, the angular symbols of H’ress’wr, the odd swoops and jags of Galran, and the comparatively simple, familiar characters of English. Pushing open the door, he revealed a cozy set of living quarters, a unmade bed on one wall across from a desk and chair and a second door that led to a bathroom. “Come on in, make yourself at home.”

 

“These are your quarters?” Shiro followed hesitantly as Matt limped inside, sinking onto the edge of the bed with a sigh of relief as he stretched his bad leg out in front of him. After a moment’s consideration the paladin flipped the chair around so he could sit facing him, resting his elbows on his knees.

 

Matt nodded, focused on pulling at the fabric of his pant leg to get at the hidden zipper around the thigh. “Yeah. Standard single quarters for most humanoid species. Really easy to customize for species needs, like different lighting or wall colours. Did you know Alteans prefer aquamarine lighting because they evolved under a blue giant star?” Undoing the fastener he pulled the leg of the garment down and out of the way. The familiar sight of his damaged leg greeted him, the smooth metal of the brace that supported the joint gleaming in the overhead lights. He unstrapped it with practiced fingers, putting the brace carefully aside before starting to massage the sore tissue around his knee, letting out a soft hiss of discomfort at the sharp ache. He’d definitely been on it too much today.

 

It was Shiro’s silence that got his attention, and Matt’s head jerked up again to the sight of sickened horror on the paladin’s face. Following the direction of the other man’s gaze, his eyes landed on the scar on his leg. It was thick and ropey from lack of proper care and from splitting and reopening repeatedly while it was healing, starting high on the outside of the knee and curving down and forward along the side and out onto his shin. Matt was so used to the sight he barely registered it anymore, and in his hurry to get the brace off he’d forgotten that his friend hadn’t seen it yet.

 

The man in question had gone white as a sheet, staring at Matt’s leg with anguish and guilt written plainly across his face. Matt didn’t have to be psychic to guess at the memory playing out in Shiro’s mind, or the thoughts running through his head. “Takashi…” He began, softly, trying to forestall the inevitable self-recriminations.

 

Shiro beat him to it before he could. “God, Matt…” He swallowed hard, and Matt could see the shine of tears in his eyes. “I can’t believe I...I’m so sorry, Matt, I can’t believe I did this to you…”

 

“Takashi, it’s fine, really--”

 

“No it isn’t! I  _ did _ that to you, I hurt you so badly--”

 

“Seriously, it wasn’t--”

 

“And you’re  _ still _ hurting because of what I did, don’t think I haven’t seen you wincing when you walk--”

 

“Yes, but--”

 

“I don’t know how you can even stand to be around me now--”

 

Okay, that was enough of that. Matt took a deep breath. “ _ Takashi Shoichi Shirogane would you shut the fuck up and let me speak! _ ” He bellowed, doing his best imitation of his mother on a royal tear. It worked instantly, Shiro’s mouth snapping shut with an audible click as he stared at Matt, eyes wide. “ _ Thank _ you.” Matt cleared his throat, giving Shiro a warning stare. “Now then. Are you going to hear me out about this or not?”

 

Shiro gave a slow nod, still looking distinctly upset, and Matt sighed.

 

“First of all, let’s make one thing clear. The original wound you gave me was nowhere near this bad. Lack of medical care and slogging around in thick mud at the mines made it a lot worse, both in terms of appearance and damage. None of that was in any way your fault. Understand?” His friend looked a little rebellious, but nodded when Matt fixed him with another sharp look.

 

“Second, you seem to be forgetting the reason you injured me in the first place.” The ginger levelled his gaze at Shiro. “To keep me out of the arena. If I’d been sent in there against that monster, I wouldn’t be hurt, I would be  _ dead _ . You injured my leg in order to save my life, Takashi, and you have no idea how grateful I am.”

 

“Grateful? For my crippling you?” Matt made an exasperated noise, smacking a palm to his face. God save him from cute men with great asses who insisted on carrying blame for everything.

 

“If that’s what you want to call it, then yes.” He confirmed, rolling his eyes in mild annoyance. Shiro looked confused and dismayed, opening his mouth to argue again, but Matt interrupted him before he could. “Look, I’ve had a lot of time to think about this over the last two years, so just hear me out, okay?” The paladin subsided, giving a sharp nod and gesturing for him to continue.

 

“When I first got rescued by the Icebringers, I was pretty scared for a while. Remember, I spoke all of five words of Galran and the only non-Galra I’d ever seen were prisoners like me. I didn’t know who they were, or what they wanted from me. Xel seemed nice enough, but that didn’t mean anything. For all I knew they were the deep-space equivalent of pirates, raiding the Empire for supplies and slaves, and I was no better off than before. As bad as it sounds, there were a few times I almost wished I could just go back to the mine, because at least there I knew what the score was, knew what to expect and what was expected of me. The Boiling Rock was new and unpredictable and it was terrifying.”

 

“For a while I was mostly trying to learn alien body languages for dozens of different species completely on the fly, with no frame of reference, because I was terrified of getting hurt for doing the wrong thing because I couldn’t read any of these people. I learned that for Galra emotions you watch the ears, not the face. I learned that H’ress raise or lower their tails instead of nodding or shaking their heads. I learned that Hylathians incorporate the movement of the water around them into their body language. Things like that. And once I  _ could _ communicate, I kept on learning, bits and pieces of language, culture, evolutionary history.”

 

He paused for a moment, staring distantly at the wall as he considered his next words. “Then one day, once I had a half-decent grasp of the language, I ended up seeing a traditional H’ress ceremony where they were honouring one of their hunters for something they’d done on a mission that apparently saved a lot of lives. There was chanting, and drumming, and a ritual tattoo--that’s how they get the dyed fur, like Shiiar’keh has. It’s a symbol of immense honour. And it was the most incredible thing I’d ever seen, a millenias-old alien culture up close and personal. And that’s when I realized, that I was the first Human ever to see this. The first Human to learn  _ any _ of the things I’d learned. Hell, I was conversational in a language that evolved in an entirely different  _ galaxy _ , and starting to learn two others! And I wouldn’t have been alive to see or learn any of it if Takashi Shirogane hadn’t traded his life for mine in the Empire arena.”

 

“After that, this scar became a symbol for me.” Matt said quietly, gaze falling to his leg as he traced over the scar with careful fingers. “A symbol of the incredible gift you gave me that day. Maybe I would never see home again--Earth wasn’t in the Icebringer charts, so they couldn’t take me home even though they wanted to--but I was alive.”

 

Matt lifted his head, locking his gaze on Shiro’s dark eyes, which were wide with surprise. “Yes, you cut my leg open that day. Yes, it never healed properly due to lack of care. Yes, it does hurt more often than not and I limp and can’t go far or fast without either help or pain. But that’s okay. Because by cutting my leg open that day, you saved my life. Thanks to you, I’m alive to feel that pain. I’m alive to grieve for my dad, I’m alive to miss home. I’m alive to learn alien languages and alien biology and alien cultures. I’m alive to see things no Human ever has and maybe ever will.”

 

He gave a soft laugh, rubbing at his eyes as he felt tears pricking at the corners. “And now you’re here. And I’m alive to appreciate Keith punching Iverson in the face for you, and Hunk’s cooking, and Lance’s impressive manicures. I’m alive to hold my beautiful baby sister in my arms, and tell her I love her, and see the incredible young woman she’s already started to grow into.”

 

“And,” he continued, taking a deep breath. “I’m alive to tell you how much I’ve missed you. I’m alive to tell you how incredibly, indescribably  _ grateful _ I am for what you did for me, and everything you sacrificed for me.” He shot a pointed look at Shiro’s right arm, where the sleeve of his bodysuit concealed the Galra prosthetic Katie had told him about, courtesy of Haggar herself when the arena had nearly gotten the better of the man. “I’m alive to tell you you’re full of shit for trying to feel guilty for this and I’m alive to repeat that fact as many times as it takes until it finally sinks into your thick skull.”

 

Shiro’s cheeks reddened slightly, but he remained silent. He seemed almost overwhelmed by Matt’s story, by the way he saw the impairment the older man had inflicted on him. 

 

Hesitating for a moment, Matt broke eye contact and looked away. “And last but definitely not least,” he said softly, his words still carrying in the silence of the room, “I’m alive to tell you that I love you. I’ve been in love with you for years, ever since that day you caught me booby-trapping that one professor’s desk for being a dick to some of the younger cadets and instead of turning me in, even though you barely knew me yet, you asked how you could help.” He smiled fondly to himself at the memory. With an extra set of willing hands they had successfully made the professor’s life deservedly miserable until he’d ended up transferring to another branch, to the relief of nearly everyone. “I’m not expecting you to return my feelings, and if you don’t then nothing has to change between us. But I spent two years believing that you’d died for me and I never had the guts to tell you how I felt, so I’m doing it now, because you’re alive and I’m alive and we’re together and I  _ can. _ ” The last words came out in a rush and he finally fell silent, trying to catch his breath.

 

There was a long silence. Matt fidgeted with his leg brace as he avoided looking at Shiro, poking at the screws and trying to distract himself by making sure they were all tight. The words he’d been bottling up for years were out there now, hanging in the air between them, and he felt simultaneously nauseous and elated.

 

A feather light touch on his chin startled him into looking up, and then there were lips on his.

 

For about half a second, Matt’s brain short circuited completely. Then he realized, yes, those really were lips pressed against his. Shiro’s lips.  _ Takashi Shirogane was kissing him _ . At that point instinct took over and he leaned into the kiss, dropping the brace into his lap as his hands automatically came up to cup the older man’s cheeks.

 

It was soft and chaste and over too soon as Shiro pulled back, staring at him with a sort of hesitant awe, a tiny smile that somehow managed to light up his whole face.

 

“You just kissed me.” Matt pointed out. He promptly wanted to smack himself, but his brain was still a skipping CD playing the words  _ Takashi just kissed you. The guy you’ve been in love with for years just kissed you _ on repeat, so he supposed he should be glad he’d gotten out a coherent sentence at all.

 

“I did.” Shiro sounded equally surprised with himself, but no less pleased, his cheeks dusted red.

 

The younger hesitated, slowly moving his brace off to the side again. “Does that...do you…” He tried to find the words, but they tangled on his tongue as hope warred with fear.

 

“Yes.” The paladin said simply, moving from his slight crouch in front of him to sit beside him on the edge of the bed, smoothing the blankets beside him in a gesture of uncharacteristic nervousness that Matt couldn’t help but find oddly sweet. “You’re not the only one who was shy about confessing their feelings.” He admitted, his blush darkening as he chuckled awkwardly. “I think I fell even longer ago than you did.”

 

“How long?” Matt couldn’t help but ask. His heart was pounding in his chest, and if it hadn’t been for the persistent ache of his bad knee, he would have wondered if he was dreaming.

 

Shiro smiled, his eyes full of loving admiration. “Remember that day you stayed up all night helping those freshmen cram for their astronomy final even though you had a biochem exam the next morning?” Matt groaned at the memory and nodded. Half an hour before the exam he’d resorted to a medically-unsound combination of energy drinks and espresso that managed to draw horrified looks even from other double-majors and hadn’t slept for the rest of exam week, but the grateful hugs later from the freshmen had been more than worth it. “I watched you talking about constellations and black holes and neutron stars and the way you talked about them could have made a mole fall in love with the sky. And the look on your face, like you could see them all around you...that was when I realized I loved you.”

 

It was Matt’s turn to look at Shiro in awe. That was what the other man saw when he looked at him? He was so used to being brushed off as a nerd, a dork, an awkward gangly geek...and Shiro looked at his passion and thought it was beautiful. But then, Shiro saw the beauty in everything, it was one of the reasons Matt had fallen for him in the first place. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?” He asked finally.

 

“Honestly? I thought you were too good for me.” His friend admitted, scratching his cheek nervously. At Matt’s incredulous look, he elaborated. “You’re incredibly smart, and you love to learn about anything and everything. You’re incredibly kind, like that thing with the freshmen, and you never seem to dislike anyone without a very good reason. Hence why I helped you prank that teacher, by the way.” He smiled. “You’re witty, loyal, generous, loving, handsome...I could go on all night. And I was just some piloting student.”

 

Matt let out a strangled noise, his cheeks burning crimson after Shiro’s description of him. “Just some piloting student?!” He exclaimed, outraged that the paladin didn’t seem to see how incredible he himself was. “Takashi, you were never ‘just some piloting student’. You were a prodigy, they kept having to program new sims because you beat everything they threw at you, even the ones you shouldn’t have been able to. That’s why they selected you to go to Kerberos, even over older, more experienced pilots.” The other looked like he was about to object, but the ginger was on a roll. “And even though you were incredibly talented, everybody liked you because you were kind and helpful and the nicest guy ever, not to mention hot as hell. I think every single person on campus wanted to date you, be you, or both, honestly.”

 

“I’m really not…” Shiro tried to put in, equally red-faced.

 

“You  _ are _ .” Matt insisted firmly. He studied the other man thoughtfully, comparing him to his memory of the man he’d been the last time they saw each other, younger and unscarred. Older, wearier, but still handsome, still kind. “You’re the kind of guy who takes the unruly, socially awkward problem student under his wing and gives him someone he can trust and feel safe with, someone to consider a brother. You’re the kind of guy who sees an evil overlord terrorizing the universe and immediately steps forward to fight against him, even against insane odds, because it’s the right thing to do. And you’re the kind of guy who throws himself at certain death so someone else can live,” he gestured to his leg again, inwardly amused at the way the conversation had come almost full circle, “go through  _ actual hell _ for a year being tortured, experimented on, and forced to kill, and afterwards,  _ apologize _ to the person you protected for--”

 

He was cut off again by another kiss, held longer than the first, and when Shiro pulled back Matt could see that he was crying, tears shining on his cheeks.

 

“You always did see the good in people.” Shiro gave an odd, watery laugh, naked admiration in his gaze before it dropped to his arm, the right arm, the Galran prosthetic Katie had told him about. The weapon Haggar had given him, and tried to turn him into.

 

Matt immediately reached out, putting a hand over Shiro’s. “That doesn’t make you a bad person, Takashi.” He said softly. “Neither do the things you’ve had to do, in the arena or in this war. Doing what you do, killing is necessary sometimes. What matters is who, and why. In the arena you had no choice, and I know you well enough to know you never, ever let your opponent suffer, did you?” The paladin gave a slow nod, lifting his gaze for a moment before dropping it to their joined hands. “And in battle, you were protecting. Your team, innocents, people who couldn’t protect themselves. You are still a good man, Takashi. You’re still every inch the man I fell in love with.”

 

The older man drew in a shuddering breath, hiding his face for a moment with his free hand. Matt waited patiently, giving his friend time to accept his words. He couldn’t begin to imagine the weight of guilt the black paladin had been carrying, that he knew all too well he wouldn’t have confided in anyone, but he could try to ease the burden somewhat. Takashi Shirogane was a good man, one who didn’t deserve any of the suffering he’d endured, physical, mental, or emotional, and Matthew Holt would do what he could to help him heal.

 

“That goes both ways, then.” Shiro said finally, wiping at red eyes. “You’re every bit the passionate, intelligent, clear-headed man I fell for too.” His smile was shaky, but genuine, and it made Matt’s heart soar just like it always had back on Earth.

 

“Then will you, Shirogane Takashi, do me the incredible honour of becoming my boyfriend?” He asked, grinning widely back at his friend, hope and excitement beating in his chest. “I’d get down on one knee, but I don’t think the joint in question would appreciate it.” He gestured at his leg in mock annoyance.

 

Shiro laughed. “If you don’t mind having a patchwork soldier with PTSD for a boyfriend.”

 

“I definitely do not mind.” Matt responded firmly. This time he was the one who closed the gap, leaning in to press his lips to Shiro’s, their hands still linked between them. The other’s lips were warm and soft, just like he’d always imagined they would be, and he savoured the sensation as they held the contact. His free hand cupped Shiro’s cheek, fingertips playing with the soft fuzz of his undercut and his thumb lightly tracing the edge of the scar across the bridge of his nose. He could feel the warm weight of Shiro’s hand on the back of his neck, fingers laced in his hair as the other held him close.

 

When he did eventually pull back, he could feel a deep warmth settle into his chest, a buzz of intense happiness. Matt let out a delighted laugh, leaning their foreheads together. 

 

“What’s so funny?”

 

Matt grinned, the smile stretching his lips hard enough to make his cheeks hurt. “Takashi Shirogane is officially my boyfriend.” He explained, feeling another thrill of joy even as he said it. “Jessica can fucking  _ kiss it. _ ”

 

Shiro’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Jessica?”

 

“That girl from your engine mechanics class.”

 

“Oh, that Jessica.” The paladin didn’t seem any less confused. “What’s she got to do with anything?”

 

“ _ Takashi she was hitting on you literally every time she opened her mouth! _ ” Seriously, god save him from this man and his total obliviousness. No wonder his mom’s not-at-all-subtle hints about her son’s interest had never gotten through.

 

“She was  _ what? _ Why didn’t you--oh.” Uh oh. That was Shiro’s troublemaking smirk. “I see. You didn’t tell me because you were jealous?”

 

Matt huffed in annoyance, flopping down onto the bed. “Guilty.” He admitted frankly. “Also she wouldn’t have been good for you. Trophy husband.”

 

“If you say so.” Shiro chuckled, moving to lay down beside him. The older man’s hand moved to softly caress his cheek as Shiro regarded him with an affectionate smile. “It’s sweet of you to look out for my interests like that, though.”

 

“Someone has to, you overly-selfless idiot.” Matt smiled back. He fixed his gaze on Shiro’s face for a long moment, updating his memories of every little detail. He looked older, careworn, but there was still familiar strength in the set of his jaw, and his dark eyes still radiated kindness and love like it was the easiest thing in the world. No wonder Haggar had failed so completely at turning him into a weapon, Matt realized, there wasn’t even an ounce of hatred or malice in the man’s heart that she could have used against him. That just wasn’t the kind of man Shiro was.

 

The paladin chuckled, shifting a bit to get as comfortable as he could while still wearing his armor. “Good thing I have you, then.” He closed his eyes for a moment before reopening one of them with a playful grin. “Man, I can’t believe it. You’re finally, officially mine. Matthew Tiberius Holt is my boyfriend.”

 

“Oh stop it, you big cheese puff.” Matt complained, mock-shoving at Shiro’s chest before cuddling up against him. “No more romance movies for you.” While it was hardly the first time they’d cuddled--more than once people had assumed they already were an item since they were naturally touchy people and tended to drape themselves all over each other at any opportunity--it held so much more meaning now. Matt tucked his head under Shiro’s chin, feeling the comforting rhythm of the man’s pulse under his skin as a steady reassurance of his presence and life. As he closed his eyes, he felt an arm being draped protectively over him and strong legs tangling carefully with his.

 

“Love you, Takashi.” He whispered against the collarbone of the man he loved and thought he’d lost. It was a relief to be able to say those words at long last.

 

There was the briefest moment of stiffened surprise, before Shiro relaxed fully against him. “Love you too, Matt. Always.” There was no hesitation in the words, only genuine affection.

 

Matt smiled and sighed in pure contentment as he allowed himself to fall asleep in Shiro’s arms. He had definitely never been more grateful to be alive.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: graphic violence in the italicized section.
> 
> Expect another longer wait for the next chapter, I'm afraid. I'm maid of honour at a wedding next weekend, and while I'm taking the week off from work I'll probably be pretty busy.

Poking his head into the observation lounge that had become something of a communal bedroom over the last several rotations, Coran found his ears waggling in amusement. Alejandro and Kurogane, who had finally started joining the group on a regular basis, were curled protectively around Keith and Pidge, seemingly acting as substitute older brothers in the absence of Shiro and Matt. The two in question were still back aboard the Long Wind, most likely still unaware they’d been left to sleep themselves out. It had taken nearly a varga to track them down at the end of the rotation, and when they’d been found curled up in each other’s arms Pidge had taken one look, muttered ‘about fucking time’ and shooed the rest of the group out of her brother’s room before they could wake the two sleepers. That left four paladins and two time-travellers to form the nightly comfort cuddle-puddle, a job they were accomplishing admirably and so far successfully, since so far everyone seemed to be sleeping peacefully.

 

After taking a moment to carefully drape a blanket over the group, Coran continued on his rounds of the Castle, checking habitually on the engines, the Lions, and dozens of other things crucial to the running of the ship. It was odd, seeing the engines running at idle, but with the Castle in a tractor-tow behind the Long Wind it wasn’t necessary to waste the energy. He checked them anyway, knowing they could never anticipate the unexpected, then headed for the bridge.

 

As he approached the doors to the main deck, he was surprised to hear a burst of colourful language in Altean. Allura was standing at one of the control panels, several screens open that appeared to display nothing but gibberish and error messages and appeared to be the source of her aggravation.

 

“Everything alright, Princess?” Coran asked softly, stepping up beside her and examining the screens. Definitely gibberish, whatever files she was looking at had been so heavily corrupted as to be unintelligible, if they opened at all. Allura huffed wordlessly at the obvious stupidity of the question. Switching back to the main database, she attempted to open another file only to be met with another error message. The outburst that followed had the old advisor raising an eyebrow and making a mental note to talk to the younger paladins about what sort of language was being used around the Castle.

 

“It’s no use.” She said finally, slapping her palms down roughly on the edge of the panel. “That blasted crystal corrupted most of the database. The records from before that point are all but useless.”

 

“What exactly were you looking for?” Coran asked, moving to bring up system diagnostics in the hopes of repairing some of the deterioration. He frowned as he noticed the dates on the records in question. “These are all from before the war.”

 

Allura sighed, leaning back against the side of the console and crossing her arms as she watched him work. “I was looking for anything to do with the aspects, mainly. My father was the yellow paladin, he must have been aware of how the lion-bond allowed the aspects to be manifested, and how they affected the Lions as well as the paladins.” She tucked a strand of hair back behind her ear. “I thought perhaps he, or one of the others, may have recorded information about the forms they took. It would allow us to concentrate our efforts on the ones that would be most useful.”

 

“A sound theory.” Coran agreed. “Unfortunately, you’re quite right about the mess Sendak’s crystal made of the records. Must’ve been because they were so heavily linked with the AI systems.” He twirled his moustache thoughtfully, considering the problem. “We could try to restore specific files, but we’d have to do it one at a time, and without knowing which files to try, it would be like trying to spot a tormel dropping in a pile of juniberries.”

 

The princess groaned. “You don’t have to tell me that. Father and the others never talked much about paladin business to me. I wouldn’t have any idea where to begin.” Then she paused, looking over at him with bright eyes. “He did talk to you, though. Surely you must remember something that could help us narrow it down.”

 

The older man blinked in surprise. Allura was correct, Alfor had confided many things in him over the cycles. Hopes and fears, triumphs and losses. The trick would be calling to mind the specific things that might be relevant to their needs now. The old king had talked to him a great deal about Voltron, about the paladins and the Lions and the apprentices, and he was hard-pressed to recall if the man had ever mentioned the aspects amongst the wealth of other information.

 

“It’s entirely possible, Princess, but I don’t recall...” He conceded, hands stilling on the console. Abruptly, he dismissed the database screens and pulled up a new system diagnostic for the memory conversion chambers. He may not be able to consciously recall the information they needed, but that was the whole point of the memory uploaders. They had been commonly used by Altean scientists trying to correlate everything they’d learned in a more efficient manner, or recall some relevant fact that was eluding them. The question was, had the conversion chambers suffered the same fate as so many other systems due to the corrupted crystal? “Aha! Excellent!” He crowed in triumph as the diagnostic report came back. Aside from the one which had been actively in use on Sendak at the time, the inactive memory conversion chambers had escaped damage completely.

 

Allura peered over his shoulder, eyes widening. “The memory conversion chambers? You’re going to upload your memories?”

 

Coran nodded firmly, giving her a delighted grin. “Much better than trying to sift through them the old-fashioned way. And you never know when some brief comment made in passing that it wouldn’t occur to you to remember will turn out to be crucially important. Come along, Princess, I’m going to need an extra set of hands on the controls.” With any luck, in a few varga’s time they would be able to start to get some insight from the old paladins as to exactly what the aspects could do.

 

__________

 

_ The blood-soaked sand squishes under his feet as he runs, ducking and weaving desperately to evade his opponent’s rapid lunges and slashing claws. He leaps over the fallen corpse of an earlier fighter, stumbles, keeps going. If he falls, he’s dead. _

 

_ The new arm is an unaccustomed weight at his side, metal dragging painfully at the half-healed remnants of torn flesh. He can use it, a little, but not well enough yet for this, and it hurts. _

 

_ His opponent, like a cross between a jaguar and a dragon and easily three times his size, lunges again, and he throws himself behind a pillar to evade. He hits the ground on his left shoulder, hard, and white-hot pain knocks the wind out of him as something cracks. This is bad. Very bad. He knows without trying that he’s now down his other arm, at least for this fight, and it’s only a matter of time now until his opponent realizes and finishes him off. _

 

_ Not for the first time, he thinks of Matt, and he’s grateful to have been able to spare him this suffering. The pain of injury, and the guilt of killing. He may have saved Matt, but for other initiates to the arena a quick, relatively painless death is all he can offer. He hopes, desperately, that the Holts are alright wherever they are. That they’re safe. The thought breaks off for a moment as he scrambles to his feet, runs again, adrenaline doing what nothing else can. His opponent scrambles after him, screeching in an alien tongue that he doesn’t understand. _

 

_ Claws swipe at him and he blocks with the arm the druids gave him, the sharp edges grating against metal with a piercing shriek. His opponent flinches at the noise and it gives him a moment to retreat, trying to catch his breath. He can’t run forever. He’s running out of strength, out of options, out of time. _

 

_ He thinks of Matt and Sam again, guilt flickering in his gut. He won’t be able to escape, won’t be able to find the Holts and take them home like he promised himself he would. That plan is the only thing that’s kept him going this long, but dreams and determination only do so much when your shoulder is fractured and your other arm barely usable.  _

 

_ He blocks again. Doesn’t know why he’s prolonging the inevitable. But after all this time--how long has it been? Months? Years?--fear and that dream have solidified inside him, coated his bones in a single, unalterable iron rule. Survive. So he keeps fighting. Snarls, bares his teeth like an angry lion, and lashes back as best he can with his damaged arms. Catches his opponent’s claws on his metal arm again and braces, deadlocked, size and strength against sheer willpower. _

 

_ In the back of his head, he imagines hearing a lion roar in approval. _

 

_ It happens so fast it catches them both off-guard. One moment he’s nose-to-fangs with his opponent, feet slipping backwards in the mud, the next the claws that pressed against his arm are spinning away into the dirt, severed and smoking as his arm swings outward under the loss of pressure, glowing blinding, burning ultraviolet as it slices his opponent’s chest to the bone. _

 

_ The other screams. _

 

_ There’s no time for shock, no time for confusion, because in the arena if you hesitate you’re as good as dead when most of your opponent are bigger, faster, and have much more blood on their hands than you. He can think about it, mourn over it, later, this druid-given curse/blessing/weapon that’s about to save his life at the price of another’s. For now he presses the advantage while he has it, lunges forward with a furious roar that echoes off the walls as he plunges glowing metal into too-yielding flesh-- _

 

Shiro’s eyes flew open with a gasp, heart pounding violently in his chest. For a moment, alien blood and a vibrant pink light overlaid unfamiliar walls in his vision before his view of the latter was interrupted by pale, freckled skin and a single concerned amber eye half-hidden by ginger hair. His pulse buzzed in his ears, drowning out whatever the other was saying although he could see their mouth moving. Fortunately, they seemed to quickly realize and switched to exaggerated breathing motions, silently gesturing for him to copy. Shiro’s lungs seemed to fight him at first, resisting his efforts to draw in air, but eventually he managed to suck in a breath, then another, until finally his chest didn’t hurt so much and he could hear the quietly murmured encouragement.

 

“--you go, good job. You’re doing great, Takashi, just keep on taking slow breaths for me. That’s it.”

 

He closed his eyes for a moment, blinking away the last of the dream, and shook his head. “I’m okay.” He whispered hoarsely. “I’m out of it now, Matt.” As out of it as he ever was, with bloody memories hiding in the back of his mind and always ready to ambush him. They’d been coming back in bits and pieces since he’d escaped captivity, sometimes triggered by battle and others returning in dreams like this one. This particular one was an older one that he’d relived a few times already. It never got any easier.

 

“Okay. Glad to hear it.” Matt was giving him a gentle smile, all understanding and concern, but not a trace of pity, for which Shiro was grateful. He sighed again, pressing his forehead to Matt’s and trying to sort out his scattered thoughts. He was with Matt. In Matt’s quarters on the Long Wind, where the other had taken him last night to rest his leg. They’d talked about that, about a lot of things, and Matt had--

 

Oh.

 

“You’re my boyfriend now?” The words tumbled out of Shiro’s mouth before he could stop them and he promptly went red. Nevermind the surprise and hope that he  _ knew _ had laced his tone. He groaned, turning his head and hiding his face in the pillow.

 

Matt burst out laughing. “As of last night, yeah. And you’re not allowed to change your mind, because given that you seem to have spent the night in my room, I estimate at least 80% of the ship knows by now and by the end of breakfast everyone will know. Everyone. This place is worse than a high school for gossip.”

 

Shiro snorted into the pillow. “Alteans, I’m guessing?” He was all too aware that Allura delighted in knowing anything and everything that went on in the Castle, making full use of her link with the mice, and while Coran was more subtle and good at withholding what he’d learned he was just as excited by rumors and news as she was.

 

“Always Alteans.” Matt huffed, rolling his eyes. “Biggest gossip-mongers in the universe, I swear. I mean, I suppose diplomacy  _ does _ get easier when you know where all the skeletons are buried, but it does get annoying sometimes.”

 

The black paladin burst out laughing. “I never thought of it that way, but you’re probably right. Keeping pointy ears to the rumor mill as a cultural imperative. Evolution is magical.” 

 

Matt laughed as well, rummaging around in the blankets for his leg brace. “It sure is. You wouldn’t believe some of the stuff I’ve seen, and most of it would have given my bible-thumping grandma a heart-attack. First contact with Earth is gonna be  _ fun _ .”

 

“No kidding. Not that it’s likely to happen anytime soon, mind you, so maybe things’ll be different on Earth by then.” Shiro mused. At the moment the Galra Empire was the only major exploratory effort among the stars, and the paladins were doing their damnedest to keep their attention well away from that sector of space. And Human technology was still a long way from penetrating the interstellar void--while there were research domes on the moon and a manned station on Mars, Kerberos had represented a major leap in exploration of the Sol system.

 

Before Matt could respond to that, there was a rattling against the door. Seeing that the other was still strapping his brace into place, Shiro rolled to his feet to open the door and found himself nose-to-muzzle with a H’ress standing outside with a squirming Galra cub tucked under one arm. “Um, hello?” Shiro glanced uncertainly between the visitor and his boyfriend. Wasn’t Matt off-duty at the moment?

 

“Good trading, Black Paladin. Good trading, Matthew.” The H’ress peered around him as they greeted Matt, adjusting their grip on the cub who seemed to be chewing ineffectually on their arm. “I hope we are not too early.”

 

Matt looked up and grinned happily. “Morning, Lreshk’wren! Morning Sevit! It’s fine, we were already up. I’ll be ready to go in a tick, just hang on.” Giving a last tug to make sure he fasteners were secure, Matt pulled the detachable leg of his pants back on and zipped it closed before pulling himself to his feet. Shiro couldn’t help but grimace as his boyfriend limped over to the door, despite the reassurance and forgiveness he’d received last night. Matt may have forgiven him, but he didn’t think he’d ever forgive himself.

 

To his surprise, the massive H’ress crouched low, allowing Matt to scramble up onto their back between the middle and rearmost limbs. Once the Human was settled, Lreshk’wren passed him the cub, Sevit, who blinked up at the ginger with wide eyes and immediately started making little chirrups and purrs that didn’t translate to Shiro’s ears, although Matt responded as if they did, humoring the little Galra just as he would a small Human child. Then the H’ress set off down the hall and the paladin had to scramble to catch up before he was left behind.

 

“Did you sleep well, Paladin?” Lreshk’wren asked conversationally as they walked. Nobody they passed batted an eye at the sight of a Human riding on a H’ress’s back, so Shiro supposed this must be something Matt did regularly. Given his handicap, and how tightly-knit the Icebringer community was, he supposed that made sense.

 

“Just Shiro is fine.” He said. “And I did, thank you. Did you, Lreshk’wren?” He stumbled over the alien name, his tongue refusing to wrap itself around the tangle of consonants, let alone the pitch. “Sorry, I think I said that completely wrong.”

 

The alien chuckled. “It’s fine. Human mouths don’t take kindly to H’ress names, any more than H’ress mouths and Human ones. Compared to Matthew’s, yours is pleasantly easy to pronounce.” Shiro nodded understandingly, underneath the translator’s words he could hear Matt’s name sounding more like ‘Naa’su’ from the H’ress’s mouth. “And I slept quite well, thank you, at least until Sevit decided he wanted to get up for our morning walk with Matthew almost a varga early.” They sighed the unmistakable sigh of the put-upon parent.

 

Shiro laughed. “Kids. They want what they want and good luck reasoning with them.” He glanced back at Matt, who now had the cub perched on his shoulders, a long whip-like tail wrapped around the Human’s thin wrist as they continued to talk. His boyfriend looked perfectly at home here, surrounded by aliens who had taken him in and made him part of their family. “So you do this every day, then?”

 

“Yes. One less long walk for him to make each day, since the cafeteria is so far from the medical areas. Matthew is part of the Long Wind pack, Shiro. Pack takes care of each other. And many of us are particularly protective of our lonely little Human cub.” Dark eyes fixed Shiro with a knowing stare, and Lreshk’wren’s tone became distinctly teasing. “Although maybe not so lonely anymore, I suspect?”

 

Shiro reddened. Matt hadn’t been kidding about gossip getting around. “Um, yeah, not anymore.” He admitted, shooting his boyfriend a fond smile and receiving a familiar, cheerful grin in return. “He’s too good for me, but if I’m what he wants…”

 

“You are.” Lreshk’wren’s firm tone took him by surprise as he glanced over at the large alien. “He spoke of you often, always with fondness and love in his voice. He spoke of your kindness and selflessness, and the way you sacrificed yourself for him without hesitation. He loves you, Shiro, and from what he has told me, I trust you to do well by him.”

 

Shiro fell silent, stunned at the unexpected vote of confidence from one of Matt’s makeshift family members. Someone who made it a habit to help Matt cope with his injury, an injury Shiro had caused, was the last person he would have ever expected to approve of the relationship. “I’ll do my best to be worthy of that trust.” he said finally, staring down at his clenched right fist.

 

“You’ll do fine.” Lreshk’wren patted his shoulder as they turned the corner and entered the cafeteria. Some distance away he could see the familiar armor of the rest of his team, and even as he watched Lance stood up and waved to them. “Come. Your packmates are waiting.”

 

When they reached the table Matt passed a loudly-protesting Sevit back to his parent before turning to Shiro with a small smile and accepting his silent offer to lift him down. The motion drew a chorus of ‘awww’s’ from Lance, Alejandro, and Hunk that made the black paladin blush and shoot the three of them a mock glare. They subsided, but that didn’t lessen the grins on their faces one bit as he and Matt slid into two of the open spaces at the bench. “No Coran and Allura this morning?”

 

“Allura said they were working on something.” Pidge explained. She was regarding the two of them with a thoughtful expression and narrowed eyes, resting her chin on the back of her laced fingers. Shiro couldn’t help but feel a twinge of anxiety as he served himself, did she not approve of him and Matt? Not that he could blame her, right now it felt like he was the only one doubting his own suitability and it was downright strange. He kept cautious eyes on her when she opened her mouth to speak just as he took a bite of blue goo. “So, since your clothes both look like you slept in them, I’m guessing you  _ haven’t _ thoroughly debauched my brother yet.”

 

Shiro promptly choked on his mouthful of goo, coughing violently and pounding his chest to try to clear his windpipe. Beside him Matt spat out his water and let out a scandalized “ _ Katie! _ ” as he turned a vibrant shade of crimson. The rest of the table varied between choking on their own food and drink and bursting into gales of laughter, Lance actually toppling sideways into Hunk as he went red-faced from lack of oxygen. In the middle of all the chaos Pidge sat smirking, looking thoroughly pleased with the mayhem she’d caused and ignoring her brother’s cry of “Katie, you can’t just ask things like that, you little gremlin!”

 

“Well, there’ll be other opportunities.” She sighed in mock-disappointment, putting her cheek in her palm. “Especially if Matt has anything to say about it. You should see--”

 

Whatever it was Shiro should see he didn’t find out as Matt threw himself out of his seat and charged with impressive speed around the end of the table at his sister, who shrieked and dove under it to get away. Matt scrambled after her and people’s legs had to be quickly pulled out of the way of the violent wrestling match that seemed to be taking place if the way the table shook and thumped was any indication. After a moment they tumbled out from under the end of the table, Pidge writhing violently in an effort to escape her brother’s headlock, and ended up in a heap on the floor.

 

Right at Shiiar’keh’s feet.

 

“Good trading Matthew, Green Paladin.” Shiro winced. There was no mistaking that deceptively mild tone used by reproving parents everywhere, the one that made you feel two inches tall and was typically accompanied by crossed arms and a raised eyebrow. The H’ress was doing neither of those, but you could still  _ hear _ them in the tone.

 

Matt could hear it too, judging by the way he blushed furiously and released his sister to scramble to his feet. “Good trading, Pack Leader Shiiar’keh.” He mumbled, quickly returning to his seat and making himself busy with his breakfast while pointedly ignoring Alejandro’s teasing grin. Pidge, long immune to parental disapproval, merely nodded as she picked herself up, stooped to collect the false glasses Coran had made her once she gave Matt’s back, and flopped back onto the bench beside Keith.

 

“Good trading paladins.” Shiiar’keh continued in a much less disapproving tone as they turned their attention to the rest of the group. “I apologize for interrupting your...discussion,” they shot another look at Matt and Pidge, the former of whom slunk lower in his seat and the latter of whom grinned unrepentantly, “but the technicians analyzing the Black Paladin’s arm would like to speak with him at your convenience once you’ve finished your meal. Engineering lab 12, Matthew knows how to get there.” Matt nodded, the redness of his face finally starting to subside. “Good hunting, all of you.”

 

The pack leader turned to leave, then glanced back over their shoulder. “By the way, Matthew. Congratulations.” They nodded meaningfully at Shiro, then departed. 

 

Matt groaned, scrubbing a hand down his face. “See?  _ Everyone. _ ”

 

“At least they all seem happy for you.” Alejandro commented cheekily.

 

________

 

“So you still haven’t found the override?”

 

Lance kicked his legs restlessly where he sat on the edge of one of the lab’s tables, running his fingers over the edges of his helmet where it sat in his lap. Pidge was perched cross-legged beside him, chewing on her lip as she watched the technicians’ spokesperson discuss Shiro’s arm with the black paladin and the two time-travellers. Matt was also hovering near that group, studying a copy of the scans with a frown.

 

The Olkari engineer shook her head apologetically. “No. We have been over every component a dozen times. Despite all evidence to the contrary,” she nodded to Shiro, “on a technical level there is no indication that this is anything other than a standard Galra-made prosthetic.”

 

Alejandro frowned unhappily. “So what do you suggest we do, then?”

 

Letting his gaze wander, the blue paladin briefly examined on the various incomprehensible diagrams and machines, far beyond even the decent amount of technical knowledge he’d picked up living with Hunk, although the yellow paladin seemed fascinated by them; glanced over at Matt, who wasn’t wearing his glasses--after so long without, the older Holt sibling seemed to be having trouble getting back in the habit of putting them on; and finally landed on his older counterpart. He studied the scar on Alejandro’s face thoughtfully. What had made a mark like that? And how lucky had he been not to lose an eye?

 

“That’s up to you. You may want to consider replacing the prosthetic anyway as a preventative measure against remote override, although I do realize that means giving up a formidable weapon in exchange.”

 

His future self had several other smaller scars littered across his face, but nothing anywhere near so prominent as the gash along his nose. Lance moved his attention to Kurogane instead. From this angle he could clearly see the claw marks that raked across the side of his head and the gap where the man’s ear had once been. Could he still hear on that side?

 

Shiro looked uncomfortable, glancing down at his arm. “Replacing it, what would that entail? Medically, I mean.”

 

Lance’s gaze slid lower, looking for other scars, but was abruptly caught on Kurogane’s neck. The older red paladin was wearing a slightly lower-collared shirt than usual, and Lance could clearly see the upper portion of a shiny burn scar wrapped around his throat. He squinted. The shape was weird and uneven, almost like a--

 

_ \--a wound in the shape of a handprint burned deep into his throat-- _

 

One of the other techs, a large lizard-like alien, stepped forward. “It’s a fairly standard surgical procedure. We’d put you under, remove the Galran prosthetic, and install the transmitter chip for the replacement limb before closing up. I understand you have Altean healing pods, which will speed up the recover immensely and let us make final adjustments to the arm immediately afterwards. All surgical procedures are overseen by an expert in the biology of the patient’s species, for you, that would be Medic Matthew.” They nodded to Matt, who hummed in agreement without looking up from the tablet in his hands.

 

“Pidge. Hey Pidge.” Lance whispered, poking the green paladin rapidly in the side without taking his eyes off the scar on Kurogane’s neck. That had to be a coincidence, right?

 

Shiro seemed slightly less uncomfortable as he glanced at Matt, not that Lance blamed him. Healing pods were one thing, but undergoing surgery at the hands of aliens had to be nerve-wracking. “Okay. How long would it take to prepare the replacement prosthetic?”

 

“ _ What _ , Lance?”

 

“You talk to Kurogane more than I do, how did he get that scar on his neck?” Lance kept his voice low and his gestures small, not wanting to alert the subject of their discussion that he was being talked about.

 

“Perhaps five rotations?” An Altean put in thoughtfully, eyeing Shiro’s arms. “Your base structure does not seem too different from Altean, although the arm wouldn’t need to accommodate shape-shifting. We would take some scans of your other arm in order to match its functionality. Manufacturing and assembly will take the bulk of the time.”

 

Pidge blinked, adjusting her glasses out of habit even though the ones she had now were plain glass, for show and habit rather than function, as she peered at the time traveller. “...Oh. That’s from the fight with Shiro when Haggar took control of him, I think. When we were here last time Alejandro mentioned she made Shiro try to choke Keith with his hand active.”

 

His blood ran cold and the discussion on the other side of the room fuzzed out into white noise as images flashed in front of his eyes again.

 

_ \--the odor of burning flesh-- _

 

_ \--Keith was writhing, struggling, burning-- _

 

_ \--despair and fear in his eyes-- _

 

Lance shook his head roughly, forcing back the images again and stubbornly forcing himself to take several deep breaths. Only once he felt sufficiently under control again did he speak. “That’s when he fought her control off, though, right?”

 

The green paladin nodded, looking sideways at him with a confused expression. “That’s what he told us, yeah. Why do you ask?”

 

“Dreamed about it a little while ago. The fight, I mean.” He explained. “I didn’t remember seeing that scar before, but I must have, otherwise why would I have dreamed about Shiro doing that to Keith? I guess my brain must’ve put the pieces together without me realizing it.”

 

“Was that the night you woke up in a panic and started manhandling Keith and Shiro?” She asked curiously. There was an odd gleam in her eye that Lance knew meant she’d found something interesting to think about. What was so interesting to her about Lance’s overactive imagination putting Alejandro and Kurogane’s suffering into his head at night? He nodded in confirmation and she hummed thoughtfully. “Maybe you’re right. Brains are weird like that.”

 

Lance sighed and nodded. “Yeah, it was probably a coincidence or something. My brain likes making shit up.” He huffed in annoyance. “Frankly I wish it’d stop. I could do without the nightly panic attacks.” Since the two time travellers had arrived with their painful revelations he’d only had one solid night’s sleep without at least one anxiety-inducing nightmare. Naps seemed to be the better option, although the group sleepovers did help him get back to sleep more easily. It also helped that he wasn’t the only one with night terrors, as Alejandro seemed to wake up almost as much as he did, and Kurogane and Shiro both had some of their own.

 

“Right. Just a coincidence.” Pidge said quietly. She seemed to be staring off into space in the direction of the other group, who were finally wrapping up their discussion and scans. Seeing that they were almost ready to go, Lance pushed himself off the table to join them.

 

He didn’t hear her mutter “and three times is enemy action.” to herself behind him.

 


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No warnings for this chapter.
> 
> I didn't think I was gonna get this one out this week, but I did. This fic has officially passed 100k words in my files (including my editing buffer), and we've still got a long way to go.
> 
> Also, just in case, please please please don't put anything about season 3 in your comments, because of real life stuff I won't be able to sit down and watch it until next week. Thank you!

Other Blades nodded in greeting as he passed, and Kolivan nodded in return. The headquarters was never still, those members who were not out on active assignment or stationed elsewhere going about their lives within its walls. As he walked he nodded approval to a pair who looked to have finally moved to the next stage of their courtship, assisted an injured Blade who was juggling crutches and a few too many boxes, and, for a few uncomfortable minutes, found himself with his arms full of the organization’s newest legacy cub while its father tried to locate a preferred toy in order to calm it. It was a familiar sort of controlled chaos that had been part of Kolivan’s life for as long as he could remember, and it proved a soothing distraction from the problems weighing on his mind as the leader of the Blades of Marmora.

 

And there were many.

 

The clash of metal-on-metal and the chatter of voices caught his attention and he paused outside the doors to one of the training rooms. Two Blades--youngsters, judging by their builds, probably recent initiates just past their Trials--were sparring while nearly a dozen older members watched and shouted encouragement and advice. One of the fighters managed to get inside his opponent’s guard and throw him out of the ring, prompting a burst of cheers and applause. Grinning, the victor went to help the loser to his feet--and found himself yanked down into a headlock, much to the amused approval of the audience. Kolivan allowed himself a small chuckle, ears fluttering approvingly as the group broke into a discussion of fighting techniques and strategy. Knowledge and skills, passed down from one generation of Blades to the next, as it should be.

 

As he continued his way deeper into the base, there were fewer of his comrades to be seen until finally, he was completely alone. This area was unfrequented except when Trials were underway or, like now, when Kolivan didn’t want anyone to see how overwhelmed he felt at the fact that all these lives rested on his shoulders.

 

It was here, in the very heart of the Blades’ headquarters, that he finally arrived at his destination. Set into one wall of the large room was a slab of rock almost two spans long and the same high, and although it wasn’t visible he knew it to be similarly thick. The front of the rock face was not flat, however. In the center a deep hollow had been worn into it, composed of many shallow gashes left by swords striking the surface with as much force as their owners could muster.

 

Once the Trials had been completed and blades awoken, for the final rite of initiation into the Blades of Marmora the new members were brought here, to Marmora’s Stone. It was here they were told of the beginnings of the Blades. According to the story, after Zarkon’s rise to power and the fall of Altea a warrior named Marmora had gathered a group of twenty trusted friends and allies, all people she knew to be opposed to the usurper’s actions. They had met in a cave at the foot of a mountain far from the capital, and Marmora had laid swords in front of them all.

 

 _“We are not warriors._ ” One of them had protested.

 

“ _Shilvar is, and Vasin, and I. We can teach you._ ” Marmora had replied.

 

“ _We are few and Zarkon’s soldiers are many_ .” Another had pointed out. “ _We cannot fight them all._ ”

 

“ _Not directly, no._ ” Marmora had said. “ _But every army has weaknesses. We can find them and use them_.”

 

“ _We are not strong, Marmora. Not like you._ ”

 

“ _You do not need to be, as long as you have your wits._ ”

 

“ _Knowledge,_ ” Marmora had explained, “ _Is the key to victory. Of ourselves, of each other, of our enemy. And the knowledge of one person cannot bring down an Empire any more than a single blade can cut through a mountain._ ” And then she had taken one step back, drawn her sword, and struck at the rock face at the back of the cave, leaving a single, shallow slice. “ _Which of your blades will strike with mine?_ ”

 

When they left the cave that day there were twenty-one cuts left in the wall. Every time a new member was added to the group, they scored the wall of the cave with their sword as they pledged themselves to the organization. It became their symbol, all of them working together against a common enemy and trusting each and every one of their fellows to do their part for the cause. And when they left the Galra homeworld for the last time, thirty warriors from a much larger group now calling themselves the Blades of Marmora risked their lives to extract that section of stone from the cave and bring it with them to the stars.

 

Every initiate was told the story here, of Marmora’s declaration of ‘Victory through Knowledge, Knowledge through Unity” that would later be summarized as “Knowledge or Death”, and afterwards each of them put their awoken blade to the stone to become one of her Blades, to declare themselves part of the network of information gathering and carefully-planned strikes that was intended to someday bring Zarkon’s Empire to its end. Ten thousand cycles after Marmora’s first cut, the collective blades of over fifty times that many warriors had left their marks in her name.

 

Folding his long limbs under him, Kolivan settled to the ground in front of the stone and heaved a weary sigh as he gazed up at the work of blades past and present.

 

“How did you do it, Marmora?” He asked quietly. “When you began you had just twenty Blades to your name and no history to build on, no culture or tradition to bind your members together. And yet you endured, survived, fought, and you never failed your followers. Where I have thousands of warriors under my command and the wisdom of every First Blade before me to guide me and yet it seems as though everything is about to slip through my claws and shatter.”

 

“It all seemed so simple a cycle ago.” He continued thoughtfully. “After ten thousands cycles we thought we understood the way Zarkon thought. We could predict his movements, his reactions, and place operatives to take advantage. We still could not see our way to victory, but we could moderate his advance, limit his destructiveness a little.”

 

“And then Voltron returned and all that changed in an instant. Suddenly he was driven by his desire for the Black Lion above all else. The familiar patterns were gone, replaced by his unrelenting pursuit of it.”

 

Kolivan sighed, slowly curling and uncurling the fingers of one hand thoughtfully, feeling old scars ache under the fur. “And now Zarkon is off the field entirely, nearly killed by the same weapon he sought to possess, and it is his son pulling the reigns. Lotor is practically an unknown element by comparison. Yes, we have collected information on him, the same as we have with Zarkon, Haggar, and generations of generals, but it isn’t enough. Power changes people. We have no way of knowing how he will lead, how he will use the resources his father’s Empire commands. He cannot be predicted with the information we have now.”

 

“The only thing we know with certainty is that under his leadership, a world-breaker class weapon will be used, turned against the enemies of the Empire. We have a deadline for when it will be used, but so far I have heard nothing to indicate whether or not it is already being developed and where. Even my highest-ranked operatives have been unable to report anything but rumors.”

 

“Or at least, that is what they say they have heard.” Kolivan growled to the stone wall, baring his teeth in frustration. “But one of them may very well be lying. One of your children is a traitor, Marmora, in spirit or in fact, and will throw the rest of us in front of the guns of the Empire.” He huffed angrily. “And I don’t know where to begin in discovering who, or why. The Trials are supposed to _prevent_ this. Know yourself, and know your fellow Blades, so you can trust both. No one with courage so weak as to sacrifice others to save their own skins should have ever gotten through the Trials undiscovered.”

 

The old Galra sagged abruptly, every one of his many decacycles showing on his face as the silence of the room wrapped around him. “Tell me, Marmora, why would one of them do this?” He whispered. “Blades are _family_. Brothers and sisters, parents and cubs, all united in the cause. Why would one turn against their own kin? And how do I find them and stop them before it’s too late?”

 

_________

 

“Lieutenant Kovirak, have you had any more transmissions from your leader since we last spoke?”

 

“No, Lady Haggar.” Kovirak said quietly, fighting the urge to lay back her ears even as she bowed and shook her head. The witch’s voice was oily and sly and it made her fur stand on end.

 

Haggar frowned, pursing her lips. “No? Pity, that. The last one was quite helpful, after all.” The head druid bared her teeth in a mocking smile, tilting her head slightly. “Thanks to your warning, we managed to prevent those pathetic rebels from destroying two of our Almathium mines. We may have lost one, but fortunately the loss isn’t enough to cause any major delays.”

 

The Galra’s lips twitched on the edge of a snarl that she fought to suppress. The Altean witch was taunting her, dangling information in front of her with the sure knowledge that she could do nothing with it without the permission of the witch herself. It was infuriating, and the worst part was there was nothing she could do about it. Not anymore.

 

“While I would dearly like to know how your little spy organization found out about Project Scaultrite, I do realize that you most likely don’t know the answer to that. However, I _do_ hope you remember that price of concealing information from me would be quite... _steep_.”

 

The subtle accusation had Kovirak snarling before she even realized it. “I am hiding _nothing_ from you!” She hissed in outrage, fury snapping along frayed nerves. “Trust me, that is the _last_ thing I would do, witch.”

 

“ _Watch your tongue, traitor_ .” Haggar snapped. The lieutenant’s mouth snapped shut instantly, eyes wide in horror. There was a cold silence in the room as the druid stepped closer, eyes narrowed, and Kovirak tried to hide the shaking of her claws. “You would do well to learn to show respect where it is due, soldier.” Haggar growled finally. “We wouldn’t want to set a bad example for your _cub_ , now would we?”

 

Kovirak sucked in a sharp breath at the unspoken threat. It was a cold reminder of the precarious position she now found herself in.

 

The life of a Blade in deep cover was a delicate balancing act, trying to collect information and pass it on to headquarters without being caught, and somewhere, somehow, Kovirak had slipped. When she had been called to a private meeting with Haggar and Lotor her instincts had screamed alarm bells and her fingers itched for the blade she no longer carried, claws tapping at the hidden hollow in her armor. She had expected a trial for treason, and a traitor’s execution. What she got was worse. When Haggar had learned of her role as a spy within the ranks of the Empire, she had searched for leverage and found it, in the form of the cub Kovirak had borne cycles earlier. Kovirak would gladly lay down her life for the Blades of Marmora. But she would not lay down her child’s.

 

And now here she was, trapped, sharing any communications from Kolivan with the witch of the Empire herself, while Haggar’s watchful eye controlled what information she could give back to the Blade and ensured she could not even sound an alarm that she was being monitored. And the threat of her cub’s life hung over her at every turn. It wasn’t an empty threat either, Haggar had made sure she knew that when she named the system where she had hoped her child could grow up safe from the Empire before offering her this one chance to protect him.

 

“Ten names, I think, for your disrespect.” Haggar mused, staring her down. Ten names of undercover Blade operatives. That was what would buy her cub’s life for a few more days.

 

“Yes, Lady Haggar.” Kovirak bowed her head in submission, all the fight gone out of her once more.

 

_______

 

_“--and here’s the sectional blueprint for the Black Lion’s wings--”_

 

_“Wings?” Linnata cut in, looking amused and exasperated. “Really, Alfor? What could the Black Lion possibly need wings for?”_

 

_Alfor huffed, glaring at her over the sheaf of papers in his hands. “Aside from the fact that they serve as additional maneuvering thrusters in the Voltron form, which you would know if you’d looked at the blueprints for them, wings are cool.”_

 

_“He does have a point, Linnata.” Coran commented, propping his chin in his hands and grinning at the other two. “Wings are very cool.”_

 

_“And also vulnerable to being ripped off in a fight.” The future king’s wife-to-be pointed out, rolling her eyes. “Not to mention making--”_

 

Coran dismissed the memory with a wave of his hand. He remembered how this scene played out, in a three-hour argument about aesthetics versus practicality that Alfor had somehow won in the end with a well-reasoned point on the range of motion of wing-mounted thrusters. Nothing that was useful in their current situation.

 

Sighing heavily, he closed his eyes. There was a deep ache in his chest that no painkillers could help, brought on by seeing his two loved ones as they had once been, so energetic and full of life and joy. Once again he found himself relieved that he had refused Allura’s request to be allowed to help him search his memories for information. This was a pain only one of them should have to endure.

 

“Computer, store previous memory segment and mark as ‘reviewed’” He barked out, his voice echoing in the emptiness of the holo-chamber. “Randomly select next segment and commence playback.”

 

The air seemed to shimmer for a moment before a new scene burst to life around him. Pairs of dancers spun by, oblivious, and he chuckled. His, Alfor’s, and Linnata’s wedding. Turning toward the high table, he smiled at the sight of the three of them lost in each other’s eyes and utterly oblivious to the world around them. Coran allowed himself a moment to indulge in the happy memory before he dismissed it and moved onto the next.

 

There was no joy in the next moment called up from his memories. Alfor, older and wearier than in the memories before, sat hunched in on himself on the edge of his bed in the royal palace. Coran as he had been sat beside him offering silent comfort to a man in obvious distress. Coran frowned, unable to immediately place the scene, but his question was answered a moment later.

 

_“Alfor!” Zarkon’s tone was sheer fury as he shoved the door open hard enough to crack against the wall, striding into the room. “How dare you?!”_

 

_Coran was on his feet in an instant, stepping between the two defensively. “Calm yourself Zarkon. Now, what seems to be the problem?”_

 

 _“My problem is that_ he _,” The massive Galra gestured violently toward Alfor, still bristling with rage, “has neglected his duty as paladin, and tens of thousands of_ my _people are dead because of it!”_

 

_The silver-haired Altean’s head snapped up in shock, revealing red-rimmed eyes. “What? The meteor? But the apprentices--”_

 

_“Are weak, incompetent fools who should never have been allowed in the Lions to begin with! If I didn’t know they were a set I would have never guessed it with how long it took Voltron to be formed, and by the time they did it was too late. This should never have been left in their hands, Alfor, and you know it!”_

 

_“I was needed here, Zarkon. My father--” Alfor’s tone was heavy with grief and guilt as he stared up at the other._

 

 _“Is only one man. Your duty is to the universe first,_ Yellow Paladin. _” The title sounded like an insult from the Galra’s tongue as he spat his words at the Altean. “You would do well to remember that in future.”_

 

_The Black Paladin turned on his heel and strode from the room, leaving Alfor to bury his face in his hands once more._

 

Coran’s hands remained still on the console once the playback finished, leaving three frozen figures in the dimly-lit bedroom in front of him. He remembered this day now, all too well. The royal family of Altea had been keeping vigil beside the dying king when word arrived from Galra of a large meteor, headed for the planet and too large for the weapons of the military to destroy. Voltron was needed. But Prince Alfor, emotionally unwilling and politically unable to leave his father’s deathbed, had sent the apprentice paladins instead, and the results had been disastrous.

 

Looking back now, the old advisor couldn’t help but wonder whether the incident had played a role in tearing apart the original paladins. Certainly Acalli, Alfor’s younger sister and the first Blue Paladin, had held up the incident as proof that her brother was unsuited for the throne she coveted, and she had been quick to take Zarkon’s side at the end. Coran had never much liked her to begin with, and somehow the betrayal hadn’t surprised him in the slightest, loyalty and trust be quiznacked.

 

He sighed. It was in the past now, and there were other things to worry about. He stored the memory, tagging it with his thoughts so that he could come back to it later when there was more time, and continued with his work. There were decacycles of memories to be gone through, and not much time in which to do so.

 

Memories were displayed in front of him, and just as quickly discarded. His first meeting with Alfor, when they were both much, much younger and innocent of war and loss. Linnata’s engagement to the Crown Prince and his advisor, and the first time she kissed them both. The state funeral for King Almenai and Alfor’s subsequent coronation, the ceremonial circlet heavy on his head. Alfor ordering him to take the Castle-ship and flee with Allura and Black before kissing him goodbye and turning away to Yellow’s waiting ramp, never to be seen again.

 

Tears pricked at Coran’s eyes and he was forced to take a deep breath to steady himself. He could do this. He _had_ to keep doing this. How could his soul face Alfor and Linnata among the stars if he didn’t do everything he could to prevent the horrors looming on the horizon? With another long breath he straightened, face hardening with resolve, and pressed onward into the depths of his own memories.

 

_“You aren’t supposed to be in here.” Coran commented, looking over his book at the young man in yellow-and-white armor flopped across his bunk below his feet._

 

_Alfor huffed, crossing his arms. “I’m the Crown Prince, I do what I want.” After a moment’s silence he added, “and that’s also why they won’t think to look for me here right away.”_

 

_The orange-haired man raised an eyebrow. “Disregarding the flaw in your plan, namely the fact that everyone is well aware that your other lover, me, is stationed in this particular guard barracks, why is the Crown Prince hiding from people?”_

 

_The prince groaned loudly, pulling his hands down his face miserably. “Diplomacy.” he said with a long-suffering sigh._

 

_“Who did you offend this time?”_

 

 _“It wasn’t me!” Alfor exclaimed, looking affronted. “It’s the stupid Lions. They keep rejecting pilots, and because the Voltron project was my job,_ I’m _being blamed for it when they turn up their noses at the diplomatically-approved choices.”_

 

_Coran frowned, setting aside his book and leaning forward to study the lines of exhaustion on his lover’s face. “Do we at least know why they’re rejecting them?”_

 

 _The other Altean nodded tiredly. “They’re not part of viable sets, Acalli says, or at least that’s what the_ amvel nayeta _think. And they’re also not part of_ our _set.”_

 

_“Sets? Not all of us can move quintessence, ‘for, help me out here.”_

 

_“Right, sorry. It’s like this. People with single-colour quintessence are rare, right? Really rare. And we knew the pilots would have to be single-colours to bond with the Lions when we designed them.”_

 

_Coran nodded, gesturing for the other to continue._

 

_“But, because the Lions are linked to each other, it turns out that you can’t just find five singles and stick them in the Lions and expect it to work. The pilots have to be harmonized too.”_

 

_“Harmonized?”_

 

 _Alfor nodded, shrugging. “I’m no_ amvel nayeta _, so don’t expect me to explain the mechanics of it, but apparently singles are normally linked to other singles of other colours in groups called sets. And to be pilots for the Lions, you need a live set of five linked singles, all different colours.”_

 

_Coran nodded slowly, taking that in. “So given that you, Acalli, and Zarkon were accepted by Yellow, Blue, and Black, you must all be part of a viable set?”_

 

_“Yeah. Meaning Red and Green aren’t going to accept anyone but the other two people in our set as their main pilots, no matter how much the diplomats bitch about representation and favouritism. All five Lions knew who their pilots were the moment Yellow woke up in front of me.” He held up one hand, a tiny gap between first finger and thumb. “I’m this close to telling them to take their complaints and shove them right up their--”_

 

_“Coran, have you seen Alfor?” Linnata’s voice cut across Alfor’s aggravated tone from the doorway. “I thought he’d be here with you.”_

 

_“He’s here, Linnata. Hiding in my bed.” The orange-haired man directed an I-told-you-so smirk at the aggravated prince glaring at him from where he’d dived under the blanket in a weak attempt at hiding from his fiancee. “What do you need him for?”_

 

_“The Green Lion just pounced on one of the junior guards in the Hylathian delegation coming to talk mineral trades and Zarkon won’t stop laughing long enough to help me explain that she wasn’t trying to eat him.” The young woman ran frustrated fingers through her long indigo hair. “I need him to come help me explain the Voltron project before this turns into a full-on diplomatic incident. Then we need to figure out how to modify Green, we never even considered an aquatic-species paladin. How is he going to manage ground missions?”_

 

_Alfor was across the room in an instant, catching his frazzled fiancee’s lips in a brief kiss. “Relax, we’ll figure it out. One thing at a time. Now come introduce me to our green paladin. Later, Cor! Duty calls!” He shot over his shoulder with a smile of gratitude as Coran laughed and waved a farewell._

 

Now that was interesting. Coran thought to himself, backing up the memory to Alfor’s complaints about the Lions’ rejection of potential pilots and subsequent explanation of sets of single-colour individuals. At the time it had merely been interesting trivia that happened to be causing minor diplomatic issues, so he’d filed the information away and forgotten it once the problem was resolved. Now, however, it left a number of questions bubbling in his mind.

 

From what Alfor had said--and Zarkon had mentioned the term earlier as well, he realized, in talking about the apprentices--it sounded as though a harmonized set of paladins was required in order to make proper use of the Lions, which meant the five Humans who had come to the Castle in Blue a cycle ago were a viable set. They could form Voltron almost as easily as they breathed now. But as the many rejections Green and Red had made before finding their original paladins proved, such sets were very rare--hence why there had only been a single set of apprentices by the time Zarkon had turned on them. Only one other viable set had been found by the Lions in the decacycles between their construction and separation, and although he didn’t know how long the Red Lion had been in the Empire’s possession, they had obviously failed to find one during that time.

 

So what were the chances of an entire set stumbling across one of the Lions together?

 

Mathematically speaking, it didn’t bear thinking about. Even over ten thousand cycles and five Lions, it should have been impossible for such an event to occur by chance. But somehow it had, pitting five children from a relatively primitive planet against the combined might of a ten thousand-cycle-old intergalactic empire.

 

Coran shook his head, filing away the memory with a sigh and tagging it to study again later. As bizarre as it was, he couldn’t see any way it was relevant to their current needs, although he made a mental note to ask Malrento if the opportunity arose, just in case there was something he needed to know that Alfor hadn’t mentioned. He made a quick note on his tablet so he wouldn’t forget and turned to access another memory as his stomach rumbled a protest that he’d already been at this for several vargas. Silently he promised himself that he would eat after one more memory segment, and activated the projection.

 

_“Acalli, your actions today were unacceptable!” Alfor roared in fury. Coran, startled, paused outside the doors to the meeting room, unwilling to intrude on the argument taking place within._

 

_“I prevented Ilexam from taking a bullet to the face! What’s wrong with that?” Acalli’s tone was sharp with outrage at the reprimand._

 

_“By using one of our allies as a shield!”_

 

_“They knew what they were getting into when they went into battle, Alfor.” The princess said dismissively. “They died serving a noble cause.”_

 

_Now Zarkon could be heard weighing into the discussion. “Acalli is right, Alfor. The Paladins cannot defend the universe if they’re dead.”_

 

_“The lives of the people come before the lives of the Paladins, Zarkon.” Alfor countered angrily. “Forcing one of them to die to protect Ilexam was unacceptable. I don’t ever want to see you using your aspects like that again.”_

 

_“You may be king, but you’re not the Black Paladin, brother. I don’t have to take orders from you here.”_

 

_“The universe is a dangerous place, Alfor.” Zarkon said reasonably. He sounded almost amused by something. “We need every advantage we have available to us, and that means doing whatever the aspects enable us to do. Including, if necessary, forcing a few individuals to help us protect their friends.”_

 

_“Innocent lives--”_

 

 _“_ Enough _, Yellow Paladin.” The Galra’s voice was a warning growl. “Acalli has done nothing wrong, and you have no authority to be giving orders to your fellow paladins. Leave it be.”_

 

_There was another sound of inarticulate anger behind the door, and Coran slipped away. This was not the time to be approaching Alfor about rising diplomatic stresses with some of Altea’s longtime allies._

 

As soon as the segment finished, Coran’s fingers were flying across the keyboard as he placed a high-priority tag on it. This was the first time he’d managed to find a memory of the aspects being mentioned, and while it answered some questions it raised many others.

 

The original paladins had definitely known about the aspects, and at least one had used them, that much was immediately obvious. It gave them a definite time-frame in which to search the corrupted records as well, since Coran knew Alfor would very likely have made note of the frustrating encounter with his fellow paladins. Especially given that as far as the old Altean could recall, the king had never discussed this particular incident with him afterward.

 

On the other hand, the discussion itself was maddeningly cryptic. Acalli, the blue paladin, had somehow used one of the blue aspects to force someone to act as a living shield for one of the other paladins. But which aspect? What exactly had she done, and how had she done it? Alfor had tried to order her not to use the aspect in such a way, which suggested it could be used in other, less immoral ways. But every tool was a potential weapon, so that didn’t really tell him anything useful.

  
Coran scowled thoughtfully, stroking his moustache. He was hesitant to bring this to the attention of the current blue paladin. Lance was a fairly sensitive lad, and knowing one of his aspects had the potential to be used in such a way might only inhibit him from learning them at all. Without more concrete information, he might be best off simply making note of what he did know and filing it away for the time being.   
  
His stomach growled protest again at his lack of attention and he huffed, shutting down the holographic projects and the memory retrieval program as he tucked the tablet under his arm. A quick break for lunch and then he could return to work. 


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No warnings this chapter
> 
> Sorry this one took so long, guys. I knew what I wanted to do with chapter 21, I wanted to write, I had time to write, but my ADHD brain was having absolutely nothing to do with this 'writing' nonsense.
> 
> For those who follow my tumblr for this fic, vldaspect, this is the chapter that prompted the 'FUCK FUCK FUCK I FUCKED UP' post. This chapter also features something I had expected to be addressed in season 3 but wasn't.
> 
> Speaking of season 3, I have watched it now. This is your official reminder that this story is canon divergence as of the end of season 2, and not intentionally compliant with anything revealed at SDCC or taking place in later seasons (Although apparently young Alfor being Extra af is canon, go me). I will be continuing with my own original plans for things like the past paladins and their stories.

Red growled under Keith’s hands as he ran his gaze over the massive Empire cargo ship, echoing his unease. The red paladin couldn’t find anything obviously out of place, but the sense of doubt coiling in his gut lingered.

 

The cargo transport was their fourth target since they’d launched the plan to cripple the Empire by wiping out as many Druids as possible, and the first decoy target that didn’t actually have one aboard. Strategically speaking, it was an easy target. Disable the engines and weapons, board the ship, capture the soldiers, and take the ship’s entire load of supplies: these ships carried everything from food rations for outposts to prisoners bound for the labour camps and all of it was useful to the resistance. This far from the Empire’s edge the cargo transport’s armaments were relatively minimal, and it travelled alone rather than in a convoy with other cargos and combat craft. So why did Keith keep feeling like they’d chosen their target poorly?

 

Maybe it was just because the previous day’s run against another border patrol group had gone unexpectedly off the rails when a second patrol had dropped out of a wormhole right into the middle of the fight despite the first not having got a message off. The second group was obviously caught off-guard by the situation, but the suddenly increased numbers on the Empire side of the fight had made things much more difficult. They’d been forced to destroy most of both patrols, rather than taking the additional time to disable them, including one of the battlecruisers. Two Druids killed instead of one didn’t make up for the prisoners they’d failed to save, and there’d been a moment of respect at dinner that night.

 

Cargo transports carried a lot more vulnerable prisoners than a battlecruiser, a lot more helpless lives to be lost if things fucked up again. Maybe that was what was worrying him.

 

_ “Is everyone ready?” _ Shiro’s voice over the coms was calm and relaxed, oblivious to Keith’s nervous tension.

 

_ “You know it!” _

 

_ “Ready to kick Empire butt.” _

 

_ “Ready when you are, Shiro.” _

 

_ “All squadrons awaiting your command.” _

 

Keith swallowed the sense of danger that seemed to prickle uncomfortable over his skin. “Ready to go.”

 

_ “Alright, here we go!” _ Black surged forward from behind the camouflaging bulk of the Long Wind, and the rest of them followed with the traditional battlecry, opening fire on the transport’s weapon mounts and engines the moment they had a clear line of sight. Explosions blossomed across the hull of the ship and when the enemy managed to rally and return fire, over half the guns remained silent. Keith could hear whoops of excitement from his teammates and the other pilots as they made a second pass to clear the guns on the other side of the ship. It took only minutes before the last of the weapons had fallen silent and the transport was drifting in space, her engines blackened and torn.

 

_ “Everyone ready to commence phase two?” _

 

It was Pidge who noticed first, sudden anxiety colouring her tone.  _ “Hold up, Shiro, something’s happening.” _

 

The moment he looked at the ship, Keith spotted the same thing Pidge had, one of the massive cargo bays slowly swinging open on the belly of the ship. Even as he watched, something long and sinuous was ejected out into open space, a dark line against the stars beyond. As the thing uncoiled, the red paladin realized with mounting horror that it was nearly as long as the cargo vessel, although much sleeker, almost snake-like, with many short fins along its length.

 

Glowing red eyes snapped open as the thing turned to look at them..

 

_ “Robeast.” _ Hunk whispered softly, voice trembling.

 

As though it had heard him, violet boosters kicked to life and the robeast launched itself towards them with terrifying speed. The Lions and fighters scattered, taking evasive action as Shiro yelled frantic orders into the coms.  _ “All Icebringers back to base, that thing will tear you to pieces. Keith, try to bait it away from the fighters while they’re pulling back. Everyone else, go after the robeast while it’s chasing him.” _

 

“On it, Shiro!” Keith threw Red into motion, cutting across the monster’s path in a bid to attract its attention. The gambit worked as the beast veered after him, but he found himself having to throw the Lion into high gear in order to maintain his lead on it, ion boosters flaring to life. “Guys, this thing is really fast, be careful!”

 

Not only was it fast, it was agile. The long, lithe body twisted easily around the attacks of the other Lions with barely a drop in speed. Even Lance, who Keith had never known to miss when he put his mind to it, was hard-pressed to get in more than a glancing blow as it danced around his shots. The Blue Lion pursued valiantly despite their opponent’s superior speed, before Lance had to abruptly break off and dive out of the way as the robeast suddenly abandoned its pursuit of Red in favour of easier prey. Keith found himself with his heart in his mouth as his teammate just barely evaded a head-on collision, but the Blue Lion didn’t escape unscathed as a line of sparks flared across one leg.

 

_ “De madre! Those fins are sharp!” _

 

_ “You okay, Lance?” _ Shiro called as Black and Green spun through the area, drawing the creature away from the Blue Lion. It went chasing after first one, then the other as the two Lions closed and parted, taking turns drawing it off each other.

 

_ “Yeah, just surface damage, I think.” _ After a moment Blue rejoined the chase, but the thruster on the damaged leg seemed to be sputtering a bit. Although the blue paladin was clearly putting his all into the attack, his shots were still failing to do more than irritate the creature.  _ “Sorry guys, this jerk’s just too quiznacking fast!” _

 

Black came diving toward Red again and Keith took over leading the robeast as she passed.  _ “Keith, lead it a ways away from us and the Long Wind, then come back at top speed. We need to form Voltron and we can’t do that while it’s hounding us.”  _ With a grunt of acknowledgement the red paladin went streaking out toward the stars with the monster in hot pursuit. Once he judged he was sufficiently far away he flipped Red into a 180 and kicked on the ion booster, shooting back the way he’d come toward the other Lions as he felt the familiar tug of Voltron trying to form.

 

The last connections were just clicking into place as the robeast came plunging out of the darkness toward them once more, red eyes glowing malevolently amongst the stars. With a yelp of alarm Hunk just barely managed to push the left leg out of the way in time as it streaked through the space he’d occupied a moment before, sharp-edged fins flaring angrily.

 

_ “Lance, form rifle!” _

 

_ “On it!” _ Even as he spoke, Lance’s weapon was forming in Voltron’s hands, a longer, sleeker version of his bayard’s normal form. As good as he was with his handheld rifle, Keith knew from the handful of times it had been used that the blue paladin was even better with the one fielded by Voltron, Blue’s screens providing a superior targeting system to bolster her pilot’s natural abilities. The robeast veered back towards them again, fins flaring, as Voltron brought the rifle to bear and opened fire.

 

The first shot caught it by surprise, tearing away one of the sharp-edge metal fins along its back before it could move out of the way, and the second took a chunk out on another as the beast swerved desperately. Then it was too close and they had to throw Voltron sideways out of its path, not quite succeeding as the fins tore gashes along the giant machine’s left side.

 

_ “Voltron’s too slow, we can’t even dodge it!” _

 

_ “Look out, here it comes again!” _

 

The robeast was too close, coming directly at Red, they weren’t moving quickly enough, it was going to hit them--

 

Without thinking, he slammed the control for the ion boosters and Voltron lurched sideways as the robeast hurtled past the Red Lion with inches to spare.

 

_ “Holy quiznack! What just happened?!” _

 

_ “Where’d that speed boost come from?” _

 

“Me, I think.” Keith answered, staring down at the control panel in surprise. “Red’s ion boosters. Apparently Voltron can use them?”

 

_ “That’s great, Keith, we’re definitely gonna need them.” _ The Red paladin could hear the relief in Shiro’s tone and couldn’t help but agree. This robeast was incredibly fast, and the ion boosters would save them quite a bit of damage.  _ “Hunk, are Yellow’s gravity anchors also available?” _

 

_ “I think...yeah, yeah they are.” _

 

_ “Good, then let’s go!” _

 

Voltron surged into motion again, raising the rifle to meet another charge and squeezing off a few shots before blasting out of the way. It wasn’t an ideal strategy, and the robeast’s serpent-like design seemed to be designed for speed and evasion. Lance was struggling to do any real damage to it as it twisted around the blasts, occasionally knocking off chunks of fin but not seeming to hit anything critical. The blue paladin made a frustrated noise over the coms as the beast shot past them once more.  _ “Sorry, guys, he’s just too fast! I don’t think the rifle’s gonna cut it!” _

 

“Not your fault, Lance.” Keith reassured the other paladin quickly, not liking the hint of guilt in his teammate’s tone. “We’ll have to think of something else.”

 

Shiro grunted in agreement as they pushed Voltron into a spin, rifle fire chasing the monster across the sky.  _ “Close combat is out with those fins, so the sword and grapple don’t do us any good. Hunk?” _

 

_ “Rate of fire’s too low, we’d only get one shot per pass if that, and it would dodge too easy.” _ Hunk responded grimly, shutting down the suggestion.  _ “The rifle’s all we’ve got.” _

 

There was the sound of Lance’s aggravated snarl as he blasted away unsuccessfully at the robeast, then it cut off abruptly into a noise of surprise.  _ “Wait, what?” _

 

“Lance? What’s going on?”

 

_ “One sec, guys, Blue’s talking...you want Hunk to what?” _ The blue paladin sounded utterly baffled by whatever his Lion was telling him.  _ “I don’t understand, what would that even do?” _

 

_ “Care to share, Lance?” _ Shiro called, frustration colouring his tone as Voltron evaded another pass, the ion boosters roaring at full blast to push the massive machine out of the way.

 

There was a long moment of hesitation before Lance spoke.  _ “She wants Hunk to put his bayard in too. With mine. But I don’t know what that’ll do.” _

 

Sparks flew from Red’s side as they cut their next dodge a little too fine. “Well, try it and let’s find out already!” Keith snarled, gritting his teeth against his Lion’s pain. “It’s gotta be better than this!”

 

_ “Do it, Hunk.” _ Shiro ordered quickly.

 

_ “Alright, here we go!” _

 

There was a moment’s pause, then power surged through the machine, more strongly than it normally did when they called for one of the weapons. Through Red’s screens, Keith saw the blue rifle vanish, dispersing back into quintessence before a new shape began to form, mounted on the shoulder like Hunk’s cannon would normally be. This was not the yellow paladin’s familiar shoulder cannon, however. It was lighter and sleeker, blue with yellow accents, and had multiple barrels across the front.

 

_ “Dude,” _ Pidge breathed, sounding awestruck.  _ “What the fuck is that?” _

 

_ “Our new best friend.” _ In the blink of an eye, Lance’s tone had gone from anxious and hesitant to gleeful anticipation at whatever his screens were telling him about his new weapon.  _ “Hold onto your seats, guys, this is about to get loud!” _ As the robeast twisted around to charge them yet again, Lance let out a loud war cry that was nearly drowned out by the blast from the gun. Dozens of plasma shots streaked through the air, fanning out from their point of origin like a starburst firework before curving in toward their target

 

Their opponent never stood a chance. While it could easily evade the rapid single shots of the basic rifle or the wide blast of the heavy cannon, this new multi-gun filled the air with a spray of shots that tore chunks out of its metal body in dozens of places. The monster writhed, breaking off its attack, and Lance opened fire once more. This time the malevolent red lights of its eyes went dark and the robeast was drifting in space, a mangled wreck of its former self.

 

The blue paladin let out a triumphant yodel amidst the cheers of the others. The threat eliminated, Voltron split apart once more as Shiro called for the Icebringers to complete their capture of the disabled cargo transport.  _ “Good work, team. Head on back, the Icebringers can handle it from here.” _ The black paladin ordered once they were reasonably sure that there were no more threats forthcoming from the damaged vessel. Activating the robeast they were transporting had obviously been a last resort to repel the attackers.

 

Still feeling Red’s discomfort from the damage the robeast had inflicted, Keith opted for the Castle of Lions rather than the Long Wind, intent on examining and repairing the damage as soon as possible. The others had obviously had the same idea, Yellow flanking Blue on the side of the damaged leg and Green pulling alongside Red, Pidge probably getting a preliminary look at whatever she and Hunk would be dealing with. Only Black split away from the group toward the Long Wind, Shiro most likely wanting to debrief immediately and keep Matt company while he helped with the rescued prisoners.

 

By the time the red paladin jogged down the ramp into the hangar Hunk and Pidge were already gathering the tools they would need for the repairs, the green paladin yelling questions across the open space toward Lance, who was standing awkwardly by his Lion’s nose.

 

“--weapons from merging our bayards? How fucking cool is that? That gun was insane, you got the rifle’s precision and the cannon’s power, I know we were just trying to hit one fast-moving target this time, but you could take out a couple dozen fighters in one shot easy.” Scooping up an armload of tools, she trotted back across the hangar to the Blue Lion. “How did we do that, though? Was it an aspect?”

 

“Blue says it was.” Lance said simply, staring up at his Lion with a slight frown. The look on his face troubled Keith as he approached, all his excitement from earlier wiped away by whatever he was thinking about. “She also said earlier that we’ve done it before, against Zarkon.”

 

Hunk’s eyes widened in realization and he nearly fumbled the welding kit he was carrying. “...Wait, no, she’s right. We did. Remember when we fought Zarkon in his exo-armor?” Setting down the kit, he gestured for Blue to crouch so he could get at the damage more easily, the Lion dropping obediently. “Keith and Shiro made that burning sword, and the four of us together made that giant one.”

 

“Shit, you’re right.” Pidge’s eyes widened in realization as the yellow paladin scaled the Blue Lion’s paw and peered into the gash. “How’s that possible--” She paused to pass the engineer a couple of tools “--when we didn’t even know about the aspects then?”

 

“We didn’t know about them when we unlocked the natural elements, either.” Keith pointed out, moving to stand beside the oddly-silent blue paladin. “Obviously knowing about the aspects isn’t required to unlock them, it just makes it easier. Did she say which aspect it was?” Up close, he could see the other teen chewing on his lip, one hand resting lightly on Blue’s muzzle. Something was definitely bothering him.

 

Lance was quiet for a long moment, as though debating whether to answer the question at all. “...The physical analogue.” He said finally, folding his legs under him and sitting, his back pressed against his Lion’s nose. “Heart. I just don’t...it doesn’t make sense.”

 

“What do you mean?” Keith dropped into a sitting position as well, brushing his hair back out of his eyes as he gazed at the other paladin in concern. “What doesn’t make sense about that?”

 

“Because I haven’t done anything that should have unlocked it!” Lance’s tone was heavy with confusion and frustration as he banged one clenched fist off his knee. “You remember how Malrento described the heart aspect, right? Holds the group together and gives them life? Since when do I do any of that?” He took a deep breath, holding it for several seconds before letting it out slowly. “I mean, yeah, we’re friends, but I’m pretty sure I just annoy you guys a lot of the time and I sure as quiznack don’t bring the group together or ‘give it life’, whatever that means.”

 

Keith frowned, and to one side he could hear the clatter of tools being set down before Hunk and Pidge joined them in a small circle. The yellow paladin put a soothing hand on his best friend’s shoulder, and Pidge was peering at Lance with obvious concern in her eyes.

 

“Lance, you’re not annoying.” The tiny girl said firmly, staring up at him. “Well, okay, you can be sometimes, but never in a bad way, and when you do it’s like it is with Matt. Like an older brother bugging a little sister.” Looking down, she fiddled with a small wrench. “To be honest, it helped a lot. With missing my family, I mean. So thanks for that.”

 

“I’ve told you this before, Lance, but being around you makes me feel less homesick too.” Hunk put in, smiling gently. “It’s like having a little bit of home here with me out in space. I would definitely be a nervous wreck without you, buddy.”

 

Pidge leaned back on her hands, a cheerful grin starting to spread across her face as Lance regarded them both in surprise. “You’re always the one who makes us be less serious and just relax, y’know? You encouraged me to buy that game system at the mall, and you helped me raid the fountain for the money for it--”

 

“Is  _ that _ what you were doing while Vrepit Sal was holding me prisoner in his terrible restaurant?”

 

“Yup. But at least we weren’t getting into fights with mister Space Slap Chop like Keith over here.” The green paladin shot Keith a smirk and he felt his cheeks redden as he tucked his knees to his chest. What the hell was a slap chop? “And you always bug me to play when you think I’ve been working too hard.” Lance blushed and nodded in agreement as she called him out. “I’ve seen you pester Shiro into playing too. What was the excuse you used? Fine motor control practice for his arm?”

 

“Yeah, well, he’s almost as bad for excessive training as Keith is! Worse, sometimes!”

 

The yellow paladin shrugged, nodding in agreement. “I mean, you’re not wrong. But that’s exactly what we’re saying. You’re always dragging the rest of us out of our own heads and lightening the mood. Helping me with my anxiety, stopping Pidge from overworking,” Pidge nodded in agreement as Hunk ticked off points on his fingers, “distracting Shiro and Keith from overtraining…”

 

“You give Coran someone to talk to.” Keith said quietly, speaking up for the first time and drawing surprised looks from the other three. “He doesn’t really open up much, but he talks to you more than anyone else, especially stories about Altea and when he was younger. Happier.” Maybe it hadn’t been so obvious to the others, but Coran’s stories were always things from happier times in his life. “And you distract Allura when she gets to thinking about Altea too much.” He continued, tugging self-consciously at his gloves as he spoke and trying to ignore the pang of jealousy at the memory of Lance’s flirty comments toward the Altean princess. Thankfully it had been happening less since they’d joined up with the Long Wind, the presence of other Alteans doing wonders for the young woman’s emotions.

 

Thinking for a moment, he gave a small smile as he remembered something. “That sleepover a few nights ago, after Kurogane and Alejandro finally told us everything that happened to them? You were the one who made them join in finally. You made them part of the group.”

 

“You made them feel like they had a family again, Lance.” Pidge agreed softly. “I was talking to them the next day, and the look on Alejandro’s face...what you did meant so much to them.”

 

“You’re always doing that. Helping people with the things that matter to them.” Keith agreed, thinking back over the last year and a bit. “Back when Shiro’s ship crashed at the Garrison, you and I had barely talked. You didn’t even like me all that much.” Lance’s cheeks went very red--embarrassment?--and Hunk snorted and smirked at his friend. “But you knew how much Shiro meant to me, and even though you said you were gonna rescue Shiro, instead you helped me get him out of there.”

 

“Well yeah.” The blue paladin mumbled, refusing to meet his gaze. “They knocked him out with a sedative. Dude’s a brick wall, no way either of us would have gotten far with him alone.”

 

Keith snorted, not denying it. Looking back, he honestly wasn’t sure how he’d have gotten Shiro out of there without the help of the other three. There’s no way he could have out-driven the Garrison’s ATVs while trying to hold onto the unconscious man, and Lance made a very good point about how heavy Shiro was.

 

“And don’t think I haven’t noticed you trying to make  _ me _ feel like part of the group, too.” He pointed out with a small smile, and chuckled as Lance’s cheeks instantly darkened to a deep crimson. “I’m not good with people. I don’t understand them, and they usually think I’m weird.” His gaze dropped again as he tugged at a loose thread on his glove and frowned, his own cheeks reddening with the admission. He could feel three pairs of eyes on him, their gaze crawling across his skin, but he pushed forward. “But you treat me the same even when you have to explain things for me that everyone else understands, like that weird cheer. I still don’t get it, but you never got mad at me for that. You never made me feel like an outsider, for anything. Even when I found out I was part Galra, you just kinda shrugged and asked me what I wanted for dinner. You didn’t treat me any different.”

 

Hunk shot him a proud smile that had some of the tension leaking out of him before the yellow paladin turned back to his best friend. “I know you, Lance, and you probably don’t think any of that stuff is a big deal. Right?” The blue paladin nodded, looking flustered. “Well it is to us. And all that stuff, you didn’t even have to think about it, knowing you.”

 

“It just...seemed like the thing to do?” Lance offered weakly. He shot a glance over his shoulder at Blue, who was purring softly and giving off a definite aura of approval and agreement with what the other paladins had been saying. “What else was I gonna do? Let you guys stress yourselves out? And I’ve  _ been _ the odd man out, no one should have to feel like they don’t belong.”

 

“That’s what I mean, though. Doing that kind of stuff comes naturally to you. You’re always making sure everyone feels like they belong, that they have someone to turn to. You look out for your friends and family like it’s as easy as breathing.”

 

Pidge smiled, ticking off points on her fingers. “Inclusion, acceptance, de-stressing, fun...sounds like holding the group together and giving it life to me.” She fixed the blue paladin with a cheeky grin as his eyes widened.

 

Keith nodded in agreement of Pidge’s assessment, as did Hunk. “And you’ve always done that, as long as I’ve known you.” the Yellow Paladin said proudly. “Honestly, it’s no wonder you got the Heart aspect first, and early. In fact,” he tapped his chin thoughtfully, shooting Pidge a look of excitement and curiosity, “I wouldn’t be surprised if you had it unlocked right from when you formed your bond with Blue.”

 

Lance flushed, burying his face in his hands. “Come on, Hunk, that’s ridiculous…”

 

“I could see that.” Pidge commented, propping her chin on one hand. “I mean, the ability to use the aspects comes from the Lions, right? If you’re already totally in touch with one of the traits, who says you couldn’t unlock them the moment you become a paladin. You just didn’t realize because we didn’t need that ability before the fight with Zarkon.” Giving Lance a considering look, she hummed thoughtfully. “In fact, given what Malrento told us about them, if I had to pick any person and any aspect besides the natural elements to get unlocked even before we knew about them, you and heart would definitely be on my list of likely candidates. Also Keith and instinct and myself and curiosity-courage, and maaaaaybe Shiro and leading, but definitely you and heart.”

 

“Okay, okay, I get it!” Lance exclaimed loudly, his cheeks blazing crimson. Keith was relieved to see there was a small smile on his face now, the confusion and self-doubt from earlier washed away now in favour of being flustered and overwhelmed by their praise and support. “You guys really see it that way, huh?”

 

“Absolutely.” Hunk confirmed, putting an arm around his friend’s shoulders. “You definitely deserve to have that aspect unlocked.”

 

“And what an aspect! Merging the bayards? That give us so many more options in a fight!” Pidge bounced in place excitedly as she considered the possibilities. “Ten combinations of two, ten of three, five of four, and one of five, for a total of twenty-five weapons beyond the five basic bayards. We’ll have to keep a list of the different forms, maybe there’ll be some kind of pattern so we can predict what combinations would be best based on what we need. Maybe we can spend some time trying different combinations outside battle, see what comes out--”

 

Hunk laughed, reaching across to put a restraining hand on the green paladin’s knee. “Slow down there, tiger. One thing at a time. We’re not doing any testing of anything until we fix Blue and Red from today’s battle, so we should probably get back to work.” Pidge huffed, but nodded, pushing herself back to her feet and climbing Blue’s paw where she reached down for Hunk to pass up the tool kits.

 

As the other two paladins resumed their repairs to the deep slice across Blue’s leg, engaging in a spirited debate about possible weapon combinations while they worked, Keith moved to sit next to Lance. “You really do deserve that aspect, you know.” He said quietly, glancing sideways to where the blue paladin was tracing the join between two of the Lion’s armor plates with his fingertips. The lanky teen looked up in surprise. “I’ve never met anyone as good as you at making people feel like they belong.” The red paladin shot the other a grateful smile, thinking back to their conversation in the Long Wind’s nursery some time before, when Lance had reassured him firmly that he was part of the makeshift family here on the Castle, that he had more people than just Shiro who cared about him.

 

Lance’s cheeks reddened once again, and he gave an awkward, nervous smile back. “Well, you do belong. You’re part of the team, part of the family. And I really--”

 

“Keith!” Whatever the blue paladin had been about to say was interrupted by Pidge’s loud shout, edged with frustration as she leaned over the edge of Blue’s paw to get closer to them.

 

Keith jumped, twisting to look up at the younger paladin. “Yeah? What’s up?”

 

“Keith, you train with Shiro more than anyone else does. What form does his bayard take?”

 

Blinking in surprise, Keith had to take a moment to process the question. “I don’t actually know, I’ve never seen him use it. I don’t think he even carries it on him half the time.” He said after a moment. “He always just uses his arm when he’s fighting.”

 

The tiny girl made a frustrated noise, throwing up her hands. “How am I supposed to predict how his bayard will combine with the others if that flaming sword is literally the only time he’s ever used it? And he’s getting the arm taken off tomorrow, isn’t he? He’s gonna  _ have _ to start using it or he’s not going to have a weapon at all!”

 

“We’ll talk to him about it when he and the others get back.” Keith promised. Pidge had a very good point, though, once the arm had been removed Shiro would be rendered defenseless unless he was willing to use the bayard. He wasn’t even sure why the older man was so hesitant to use it, given that he’d finally stopped referring to it as ‘Zarkon’s bayard.’ It was definitely something that would need to be brought up at the next opportunity.

 

Pidge sighed, straightening up again to turn her attention to the repairs. “We’d better. I’m not letting that man risk his self-sabotaging neck unnecessarily now that he and my brother are  _ finally _ an item. Do you have  _ any _ idea how long those two were mooning over each other? The second-most-oblivious mutually-pining couple I’ve ever had the misfortune of meeting.” Beside her, Hunk seemed to take a sudden choking fit that had Lance worriedly offering his friend a water pack, although that only seemed to make things worse.

 

Baffled by the strange behaviour of his friends, Keith turned to look out of the main hangar’s doors and caught sight of a small dark shape approaching the Castle from the direction of the Long Wind. “Looks like now’s our chance, Pidge, they’re headed back right now.”


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No warnings for this chapter aside from Shiro having a bit of a freak-out.
> 
> Lots of 'this is not season 3 compliant' in this chapter.  
> (You know what's great? Realizing you contradicted yourself in the chapter right as you're about to post it.)

As Black came in for a landing in the main hangar, Shiro sighed with relief at the sight of the other four paladins clustered around the Blue Lion. While none of them had seemed unduly stressed over the coms after the battle with the robeat, he felt better now that he could see them and reassure himself they really were unharmed. His chair shook slightly and he chuckled, glancing over his shoulder at Alejandro who was gripping it and bouncing with more excitement than Shiro had seen the time-traveller display in the short time he’d known him. Both he and Kurogane were slowly starting to settle in with the support of the rest of the team, and it showed.

 

“Calm down, silly, you’ll be able to ask them about it in a minute.” Kurogane commented affectionately from further back. Both time-travellers had been delighted to learn that team Voltron had been able to use what they decided must have been a new aspect. They had only ever seen three in use in their own time, and no one had been able to tell them how the aspects would manifest for paladins, so they were eager to see exactly what the remaining aspects could do. Allura was likewise curious--apparently Coran’s search of the records had so far failed to turn up anything of use.

 

Once Black finally dropped her ramp, Alejandro and Kurogane were the first ones out of her airlock, with Allura following close behind. Shiro followed a little more slowly, wrapping one arm around Matt’s waist and pressing a kiss to the side of the other man’s head as they walked. After so long apart he treasured every contact with the man he loved.

 

“So, was that a new aspect we saw out there today?” He asked cheerfully, looking around at his teammates, who had obviously been waiting for he and Matt to join them.

 

“Sure was!” Hunk called, flipping up a welding mask to reveal a broad grin. “Blue’s physical analogue! Heart!”

 

Lance rocked a bit on the balls of his feet, looking proud but flustered at all the attention that was on him. “Apparently I’d already unlocked it a while back? We used it before when we fought Zarkon, it lets us merge bayards into other weapons in the Voltron form.”

 

Alejandro and Kurogane exchanged startled looks. “Wait, I remember now. We’ve done that before. Several times.” Kurogane said quietly, eyes wide. “It’s been so long since we had Voltron that I’d forgotten. We never knew it was an aspect.”

 

“I’m trying to predict what some of the other combinations will be, based on the three we’ve seen.” Pidge scrambled down from Blue’s paw, darting over to the two time-travellers with her tablet in hand. “What forms have you seen?”

 

Kurogane hummed, pursing his lips thoughtfully as he tried to remember. “Aside from the blazing sword and scimitar? Green and blue make a harpoon, and red and yellow make a battle-axe.”

 

“Those make sense, based on the single-bayard forms.” Pidge was quick to jot those down, frowning. “So you haven’t seen any other black bayard combinations.” She huffed in frustration as she turned her attention abruptly toward Shiro, making the black paladin jump. “You know, this would be easier if you told me what your bayard form is.”

 

Shiro froze, his breath catching in his throat. He should have seen that request coming from the moment Lance had explained that the aspect allowed the merger of bayards. Slowly he forced himself to take a deep breath, letting it out slowly through his nose. “Sorry, Pidge, I don’t know what my bayard’s form is. I’ve never activated it.”

 

The green paladin threw up her hands in dismay. “Well why the fuck not? It would give you something other than your hand to use in a fight!”

 

“They’re taking the arm off tomorrow, Shiro.” Keith pointed out as he came up beside Pidge with his arms crossed and a worried expression on his face. “You need something else you can use to defend yourself.”

 

“The Castle has an armory.” He responded firmly, crossing his arms uncomfortably and trying to ignore the tension in his own muscles, the mounting anxiety tightening his lungs. “I can take something from there to use. The bayards aren’t the only weapons in the Castle, Keith, Pidge.”

 

“Just activate the damn bayard, Shiro!” The green paladin was obviously getting frustrated with his reluctance, her raised voice starting to attract the attention of the rest of the group away from their own discussions. Beside him, Matt put a soothing hand on his shoulder, and Shiro knew the other man could feel his body coiling like a spring.

 

He took another deep breath, trying to reign in the rising discomfort that was tipping him steadily toward fight or flight. He didn’t want to talk about this, didn’t want to think about the black bayard stored away inside his armor, didn’t want to tell his entire team why he never touched it or looked at it. “I’ll activate the bayard when I feel ready to do so, Pidge. Please, leave it be.”

 

“But why won’t you--”

 

“ _Pidge, I asked you to leave it!_ ” The tension snapped through him like a steel cable breaking under a too-heavy load, coming out in sharp tone and raised voice that shocked the room into silence. Shiro could feel eight pairs of wide eyes on him, could feel his Human hand trembling as he clenched it into a fist at his side. Pidge was staring at him with a stunned, frightened expression that sent nausea curling into his gut and throat with the knowledge that he had put that fear in her eyes. The air in the room felt too thick suddenly, making it impossible to breath.

 

He bolted.

 

The Castle’s corridors blended together in front of him, the only sounds his own ragged breathing and his boots pounding against the floor and echoing off the wall. By the time he stopped he was deep inside the ship, unfamiliar corridors dusty with disuse despite the efforts of the air filtering system. Shiro pressed himself to the wall and slid slowly down, burying his hands in his hair as he tried to slow his racing heart and aching lungs, his thoughts still tangled up and razor sharp inside his mind.

 

He wasn’t sure how long he sat there, long enough for his breathing to slow and his fingers to stop digging into his skull quite so hard, before the sound of footsteps had him snapping his head toward the corridor he’d come from in a reflexive threat response until he recognized the slow, uneven gait as Matt. The black paladin remained silent, turning his gaze back down to the floor as the ginger approached and maneuvered himself carefully to the floor beside him.

 

Matt didn’t say anything, simply bearing him silent company in whatever distant corner of the Castle-ship he’d ended up. The younger man seemed content to study the hallway around them, peering up at light fixtures and poking at the thin layer of padding on the floor with one hand while the other rubbed absently at his knee.

 

“...How did you find me?” Shiro asked finally, once he managed to put together the question coherently in his brain.

 

“Allura scanned the Castle.” The other responded easily. His tone was relaxed, with no anxiety or anger despite the fact that the man beside him had just screamed at his little sister for asking a perfectly reasonable question. “You’re up on the forty-sixth floor, by the way.”

 

The paladin hummed acknowledgement, leaning his head back against the wall and closing his eyes. “You’re not going to ask me what that was all about?”

 

Matt shrugged. “If you want to talk about it, you will. All that business about bayards and weapons kinda lost me, to be honest, so _if_ you feel like talking about it, you might have to give me a little background in order for me to understand why you were upset.” He resumed his examination of the flooring material, eyebrows furrowing in concentration.

 

“...Got it.” Shiro lapsed back into silence, and Matt eventually closed his eyes, breathing deeply and steadily, only occasional slight adjustments to his position betraying that he hadn’t fallen asleep.

 

Eventually, gaze fixed on the ceiling, Shiro spoke. “The bayards are quintessence-based weapons for the paladins of Voltron.” He felt rather than saw his boyfriend shift beside him, refocusing his attention. “They’re supposed to take the form of the weapon best suited for each paladin. Lance has a natural gift for shooting, so his bayard is a rifle. Keith works best with blades, so a sword is the form his bayard took.”

 

“And you don’t know what form your bayard takes yet?”

 

“I didn’t have it for a long time, Zarkon did. He was the Black Paladin before me. And now…” He trailed off, unsure how to put the way he felt about the bayards, about the whole concept of them, into words. Matt waited patiently, not rushing or questioning further, and Shiro felt a surge of gratitude for the other man. The words felt heavy in his head and on his tongue, but he reminded himself sharply that there was no one here to hear them but Matt, the same Matt who treated his damaged leg as a reminder of what Shiro had sacrificed to save his life, who had already insisted more than once that the black paladin couldn’t keep bearing all the burdens he had been alone.

 

“I’m...afraid.” He said finally. “Of what my bayard will turn into.”

 

“Of what it will say about you as a person.”

 

Shiro nodded. Perceptive as always, Matt had hit the nail squarely on the head. He had spent a year in the gladiator arenas, killing again and again and by the end he was _good_ at it. It was never easy, not emotionally, but physically, yes, he had become a skilled fighter and the title of Champion was never spoken with anything but awed respect. And then he’d escaped, and been launched into the middle of this war, and he continued to kill, just as easily as before.

 

He’d tried to imagine, once, after they’d got him free of Black’s protective embrace, what form his bayard would take. The first thing that came to mind was a machine gun, dealing death to hundreds in minutes. The second a broadsword, cleaving enemies in two in a spray of blood. He’d stopped after that, stored his bayard away in the armor and never touched it since.

 

He was already an instrument of death. He didn’t need another.

 

Matt was silent for several minutes, gazing at him consideringly. He looked as though there was something he wanted to say, but was hesitating. Finally, “Coran was the advisor to the King who built the Lions, wasn’t he?”

 

Blinking in confusion at the apparent non-sequitur, Shiro nodded again. “King Alfor, yes.”

 

“So he probably knows more about the bayards than anyone else on this Castle.”

 

Now he saw where this was going, at least partially. Matt was a quick thinker, always had been, and this wasn’t the first time Shiro had been left in the mental dust. “You want to talk to him about the bayards?”

 

“Mhm. I want to see what sort of form he thinks your bayard would take.” Matt pushed himself up off the ground, gripping Shiro’s shoulder for support as he levered himself to his feet. The black paladin remained frozen on the ground, anxiety resurging at the suggestion. Then the other man was crouching in front of him, cupping his face in his hands and Shiro remembered to breathe. “I know it’s not exactly what you’d rather do.” Matt said softly, his remaining amber eye regarding Shiro intently. “But Pidge and Keith are right about you needing to know for battle. And for better or worse, once you know, you know, and it’ll be one less fear hanging over your head. I figure if we talk to Coran, get some idea of what he thinks your bayard might be, it’ll soften the blow a little when you actually activate it since you’ll have some idea what to expect.”

 

Shiro huffed out a breath that was more sigh than laugh. “I guess.” He cupped Matt’s hand with his Human one, leaning into the gentle touch and drawing comfort from the silent reassurance. “Alright. Fine. Let’s do that.”

 

His boyfriend smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips before straightening again and offering a hand to help pull Shiro to his feet with blatant disregard for the black paladin’s greater bulk and his own handicap--both of which apparently meant little to the ginger as he took a firm grip, braced himself, and hauled Shiro upright with surprising strength, leaving the older man swaying on his feet before he’d quite realized what was happening. “Physics is my bitch.” Matt grinned at his obvious consternation. “Now, where would we find Coran?”

 

“Ah...the AI room, most likely.” Shiro shook himself back to his senses as they set off down the hallway, Matt leading the way back to the closest elevator shaft. “He’s been working on some sort of project, looking for information about the aspects.”

 

“AI room it is, then.” As they stepped into the elevator, Matt tucked himself under Shiro’s arm, a comforting presence at his side as the other threaded an arm around his waist. He didn’t remove it until they reached the doors to the AI room, stepping forward to knock when the paladin hesitated with a sudden surge of reluctance.

 

A moment later the door slid open to reveal Coran. The long hours he’d been working had left their marks on the Altean in the shadows under his eyes, but he smiled broadly at the sight of them. “Shiro! Matt! To what do I owe the pleasure of your company this fine…” He paused, checking a handheld time-piece. “...afternoon!”

 

Matt chuckled, reaching back to grab Shiro’s hand and gently tug him closer. “Sorry to interrupt your work, Coran, but we were hoping you could spare a few minutes to talk to us about bayards.”

 

“Bayards, hm?” The old advisor fixed Shiro with a long stare. For a moment, it felt as though the orange-haired man was looking right inside him, seeing all his fears and insecurities as though they’d been laid out right in front of him, and he shifted uncomfortably under the intensity of the gaze. After a moment, however, the Altean smiled, gentle and understanding. “Righty-o, come on in. Just give me a moment to turn the hologram projection off for now.”

 

Entering the chamber with a hologram active was a strange feeling as they walked in and found themselves in the middle of a frozen scene of what appeared to be a state dinner of some sort. Examining the faces at the table, Shiro easily recognized Alfor, Zarkon, and a younger Coran. An Altean woman seated between Alfor and Coran bore an unmistakable resemblance to Allura, from the curly texture of her dark blue hair to the small smile on her face. Another Altean woman, seated on Zarkon’s other side, looked oddly familiar as well in a way that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up, but the hologram vanished at Coran’s touch on the controls before he could figure out why he felt as though he’d seen the cold smile on her face before.

 

Leaning against the panel Coran tugged on his moustache as he turned to face them. “Now then, what is you’d like to know about the bayards? That, thankfully, is something I know a fair bit about. I did help design them after all.” There was a proud twinkle in his eye, and Shiro relaxed a bit. Maybe Matt’s idea would work better than they had hoped.

 

“We’d like to know how the forms the bayards take is determined.” Matt requested, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “And if there’s any way to predict what weapon they’ll turn into for a specific person.”

 

“They’re supposed to be the weapon best suited for the paladin. How do you know what that is?” Shiro asked softly, swallowing hard. He was here now, he might as well get this over with.

 

“I see…” The older man hummed thoughtfully, glancing at Shiro with the same knowing look as before. “While that is the case in the general sense, it’s actually rather more complicated than that. Since they are tied to the paladin’s quintessence every bit as much as the Lions are, the exact form the bayard takes does in fact tell you rather a lot about the person wielding it. It’s why they tend to change a bit as the user grows and learns, although they normally remain the same type of weapon throughout the life of the paladin. You’ve seen that for yourself, I think, when you compare Alejandro’s rifle to Lance’s and Kurogane’s sword to Keith’s.”

 

Turning back to the projector controls, Coran pulled up images of the four bayards used by the other paladins. Hunk’s cannon, Lance’s rifle, Keith’s sword, and Pidge’s grapple-blade. The images rotated slowly in the air beside them.

 

“Now, what I was saying about the bayard’s form telling you a lot about its user. Take Lance’s bayard for example.” He pulled at the hologram, bringing the blue rifle over to float in the air between the three of them. “You’d normally think of a gun as a loud, showy weapon, don’t you agree? And for some, you’d be right. However.” The rifle vanished, replaced by a recorded scene from the training room. In it, Lance was laying down covering fire past his teammates, taking down drones and gladiators without once inflicting friendly fire despite the others being constantly on the move through his firing line. “Our young Blue Paladin wields a sniper rifle, which is a weapon requiring great care and precision of action, often playing the role of support and protection in battle and looking out for teammates. Quite the opposite of what you see on the surface, hm?”

 

Shiro’s eyes widened and he could only nod in agreement. At first meeting, Lance had indeed come across as brash and noisy, but time had revealed other sides to the lanky teen. His actions were always more deliberate and thought out than they seemed, and his concern for the rest of the group was unquestionable. Even the deadlier-looking design of his future counterpart’s weapon only showed that his playful side had been lost or hidden along the painful road to where he was now, while he was still as thoughtful as ever in his actions.

 

“Keith, a sword.” The red bayard replaced the image of Lance in the air, light seeming to glint off the edge of the blade. “A weapon designed to keep others at a distance. And his is double-edged. I believe you Humans have a similar metaphor to us Alteans about the symbolism of double-edged swords and their ability to hurt the user as easily as the opponent?”

 

“We do, yes.” Matt confirmed, glancing over at him, and Shiro gave a small, sad laugh.

 

“That’s definitely Keith in a nutshell. Always keeping people at arm’s length, even if he’d really like to be close to them. It took me a long time to get him to let me in, and even now he doesn’t always open up 100%.” The Blade of Marmora incident, where Keith had admitted to suspecting for some time that he wasn’t entirely Human, was a classic example of that. Not that Shiro could blame him in the slightest for that one, given the black paladin’s past experience with Galra.

 

He was still caught off-guard every time he saw the complete trust Kurogane had for Alejandro, and desperately hoped that Keith would have that one day as well, for Lance if not for Shiro himself.

 

Coran nodded at Shiro’s assessment of the boy who was like a brother to him, and sent the red bayard sliding back to its place in the line-up in exchange for the green, Pidge’s weapon alternately crackling with electricity or launching the grapple outward into the room. “Our youngest paladin is quite versatile.” He commented, drawing an approving smile from Matt. “She doesn’t like having limited options, or being boxed in. Hence the multiple modes of use, and the grappling hook feature in particular. It’s a bit lacking in defensive capability, however, but that’s not surprising since she doesn’t tend to back down from a fight.”

 

“You’ve got Katie pegged, all right.” Matt sighed, shaking his head in mock despair. “There’s no holding her back, no way, no how.”

 

The Altean laughed, swapping the grapple for the hologram of Hunk’s shoulder cannon. “This one is perhaps the one I was most surprised by, I must admit. Powerful and destructive doesn’t really suit our Yellow Paladin.”

 

Examining the image, Shiro frowned. Coran was quite right. “Hunk doesn’t even like fighting. I know for a fact he was happier than anyone about not having to destroy all the ships in those patrol fleets, and he’s the least comfortable using his weapon against our enemies.”

 

“Which I think, now that I know him better, is exactly why he has the weapon he does.” Coran moved the yellow bayard back into line beside the other three. “Which of these weapons would be most likely to prompt opponents to surrender, rather than continue to draw out the fight?”

 

“Hunk’s cannon.” Matt breathed the words, eyes wide with realization.

 

A slow smile spread across Shiro’s face. Of course. “A weapon to end the fighting as quickly as possible, one way or another.” He crossed his arms, studying the cannon and trying to see it the same way Coran could. “Hunk is well aware of his own strength, too. He can do a lot of damage if pushed. But he doesn’t want to be.”

 

“Couldn’t have said it better myself.” The Altean agreed. “I think you understand now what I mean about the bayard’s form reflecting its user. Every time I’ve seen them in the hands of a new user, they gave away much about that person’s nature. King Alfor’s took the form of a battle staff, a weapon requiring skill and control but not deadly without deliberate effort. And while I don’t know how he was able to change it when you fought him--they aren’t supposed to be able to do that--I know that the default form of Zarkon’s bayard was a bladed whip.”

 

“Control at all costs?” Shiro guessed uncertainly. Did Alteans apply the same symbolism to their weapons that Humans did?

 

“Precisely.”

 

“So what weapon do you think Takashi’s bayard would be likely to take?” Matt asked softly. “After knowing him for over a year, I’m sure you can make some educated guesses as to what it might be.” The younger man moved to press his shoulder to Shiro’s in a reassuring contact as they returned to the question that had brought them here in the first place.

 

Coran fell silent for a moment as he considered the question, turning to dismiss the holographic images of the bayards. “I do have my suspicions.” He said finally, looking over at Shiro thoughtfully. The black paladin couldn’t quite read the look in his eyes, possibly concern, but no fear. “About what his natural weapon might be.”

 

Matt frowned, gesturing for the other to continue. “And those would be?” he prompted.

 

The Altean sighed, leaning back against the edge of the console once more. “Shiro, Haggar’s work and the arena left very deep scars on you, didn’t they.” There was definite sorrow in his gaze now as the older man looked him in the eye, and Shiro found himself struck by the realization of how much the advisor had seen over his life, how much he had learned. “They tried to turn you into a weapon, a killer, against your will and against your nature. And if I’m not mistaken, your reluctance to simply activate your bayard stems from your fear that its form will reveal they succeeded.”

 

Coran’s tone held nothing but sadness and sympathy as he spoke, and Shiro could only nod in confirmation of his words, breaking eye contact to stare uncomfortably at the floor. The arena and the blood on his hands haunted him, Haggar’s voice tauntingly whispering the name ‘Champion’ in the back of his head whenever he used the arm she’d given him to strike down an opponent. A gentle touch to his shoulder startled him into looking up, however, meeting the Altean’s soft violet gaze.

 

“I’m not going to tell you what I think your weapon will be, Shiro.” Coran said softly. “In case I’m incorrect. But I genuinely do not believe it will be what you fear it will. I would be beyond surprised to see you with a sword or a gun in your hands when you activate it, much less a whip or a mace.” The Altean took a step back, a small smile on his face. “Regardless, only activate your bayard when you feel you are ready to know. As you pointed out in the hangar, the Castle does in fact have an armory, and I’m familiar enough with most of the weapons stored there to teach you the basics of how to use them.”

 

The paladin’s cheeks reddened at the reminder of his anxiety-induced explosion earlier, and he glanced sideways at Matt. “Remind me to apologize to Pidge later for blowing up at her?”

 

The ginger chuckled and waved off the request. “Who do you think told me not to yell at you? She realized how uncomfortable she’d made you, and wants to tell you she’s sorry for pushing.”

 

“Her points were valid, though.” Swallowing hard, Shiro retrieved his bayard from its storage space in his belt. The curving black-and-white object was a heavy weight in his palm as he held it for the first time in months, a deceptively innocuous object that would either confirm his worst fears or lay them to rest once and for all.

 

“You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, Takashi,” Matt reminded him softly, running a thumb over the back of Shiro’s hand. “We can wait until you’re ready.”

 

Shiro shook his head, staring down at the bayard resting in his grip. “I’ll never be ready. But it needs to be done.” Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and concentrated, willing his quintessence to activate the weapon for the first time.

 

There was a startled gasp from Matt that abruptly turned into delighted laughter which nearly drowned out Coran’s pleased chuckle and comment of “It seems I was right after all.”

 

His eyes flew open to stare down at his bayard. The curved handle of the dormant form was gone, replaced by a solid grip attached to the back of a round white plate roughly 18 inches across, the front of which was marked with the Voltron “V” symbol in black. From the edges of the white plate translucent pink energy extended outward for another foot at least, solid as any particle barrier, in the unmistakable slow curve of a shield.

 

A lump seemed to form in Shiro’s throat as he briefly forgot how to breath. A shield. His bayard didn’t take the form of a weapon at all. It was a _shield._

 

“A defender first and attacker second. Like with the staff, you’d have to make a deliberate choice to kill with the shield as your bayard.” Coran said softly, his tone warm with pride and approval as he interpreted the meaning of the bayard’s active form. “And a protector above all else. Given that it’s an energy shield, I expect you should be able to expand it to cover others alongside yourself. I can’t think of a more fitting weapon for our Takashi Shirogane.”

 

“Neither can I.” Matt whispered affectionately in his ear. “Haggar bent you, but she never, ever broke you. It’s like I said the night I asked you out, Takashi. You are still, absolutely, every inch the man I fell in love with. A _good_ man, to the very bottom of your soul.”

 

Droplets of water struck the curve of the shield and ran down it, and it took Shiro a moment to realize they were tears and his face was wet, breath hitching and shoulders trembling as he wept. The relief was indescribable, a thousand pounds of weight dropped from his shoulders in an instant as his fingers tightened their grip around a symbol of protection and life rather than the tool of death that had haunted his thoughts for over a year. Haggar had tried with all her might to turn him into a bloody sword of the Empire, had made a weapon part of his very body and stained his hands with blood, but she had never been able to take away his hatred of killing, never been able to stop him from whispering _I’m sorry_ and _a quick death is the only kindness I can give you_ as the light went out of his opponents’ eyes.

 

At some point he must have sat down, cradling the shield in his lap like it was the most precious thing in the universe. Matt’s arm settled around his shoulder in a supportive embrace, fingers playing soothingly with his hair, and Coran was a watchful guardian hovering over them both as they allowed the black paladin to give vent to the fear and guilt that had plagued him, finally laid to rest by the bayard’s blunt revelation that he was not a killer at heart, but a protector.

 

Only once Shiro had cried himself out and taken a long drink from the water pack Coran offered him did any of them speak again, Matt’s voice calm and gentle. “Feel better?”

 

Shiro nodded, tracing wondering fingers over the smooth energy of the shield laying across his legs. “Yeah. I thought...I never expected…”

 

“You’re probably the only one, then.” His boyfriend chuckled, smiling warmly as he rested his chin on Shiro’s shoulder. “Coran was pretty sure it would be a shield a long time ago, I think, and I doubt anyone else will be very surprised. They know you, Takashi. Not one of them thought you were a monster but you.”

 

The older man’s cheeks reddened at the blunt statement, knowing that Matt had read him like an open book, and he sighed. “They’re all gonna tell me I’m silly for being so worried about this, aren’t they?”

 

To his surprise, Matt shook his head. “No. They know how you feel about the things you’ve done. Your fears were valid. But now you know those fears were wrong, and that’s the important thing. Your family’s gonna be happy for you for that.” He chuckled, bumping their shoulders together playfully. “Expect a party, not a lecture.

 

A small smile crept across Shiro’s face. “Yeah, you’re probably right.” He admitted, thinking of the four teenagers who had already stood by his side through so much. There were a handful of people in the universe who understood him better than he understood himself, and every single one of them was right here on this Castle. His smile widened and he dismissed the bayard before pushing himself to his feet and offering Matt a hand. “Let’s go get that party started, then.”

 

Matt’s words proved prophetic; when they finally located everyone else on the main deck he was immediately provided with an armful of emotional green paladin, apologies tumbling out of her mouth so fast he almost couldn’t make out the words. Shiro simply laughed and ruffled her hair, reassuring her that she had meant well and apologizing for yelling.

 

“Turns out I was worrying over nothing, anyway.” He told her, pulling out his bayard. Pidge’s eyes widened and she stepped to the side, rocking on her heels in excited anticipation. When the shield materialized there was a chorus of delighted exclamations from everyone present that only grew as he found himself being dragged to the training room for a test run. Over the next hour the shield held up against everything they threw at it, even when he managed to expand it just like Coran had predicted to cover a startled and slightly bruised blue paladin who answered his joyful grin with one of his own.

 

By the time he fell back on the pile of blankets and pillows that served as the team’s bed that evening, with Matt curled against one side and Keith stretched out on the other, Shiro felt better than he had in a very long time.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No warnings for this chapter
> 
> Good news, I've hit a section of the story where I know everything that needs to happen for the next several chapters instead of pulling things out of my ass. Bad news, I still have to write them. XD Fingers crossed that my brain will cooperate.
> 
> Also, if anyone wants, give me a character or characters and I'll tell you what I think their quintessence colours are in this fic!

Keith hadn’t seen Shiro look this anxious in a very long time. Not that he could blame him. Major medical procedures were a nerve-wracking concept all on their own, and the last time Shiro had gone under the knife had been at the hands of the Druids who had given him the same arm that Matt and a team of the Icebringers’ best were about to remove.

 

The black paladin’s joy and excitement from the previous night over the revelation of his bayard’s form (and Keith hadn’t been the only one to hug him and tell him they couldn’t think of anything that suited him better) had been replaced by thinly-veiled terror once he woke up to the impending surgery, and the nerves had only worsened as the morning progressed. By now, sitting and waiting while the operating room was being prepped, the older man was hovering just on the edge of the panic attack, his hand trembling in Keith’s grip.

 

“Takashi? It’s time.” Matt had appeared from the other room while they were distracted, his gaze gentle as he offered Shiro his hand. The scarred paladin swallowed hard and nodded, allowing the other to help him to his feet and following him, Keith sticking close to his side, into the operating room.

 

Aside from the scanners and holoscreens that stood where bulky monitors would have been, it could have been any operating theater on Earth, right down to the bright overhead lights and faint chemical smell. Apparently there were only so many ways to construct a sterile, accessible environment that would accommodate various sizes and shapes of patient.

 

While Matt helped Shiro onto the table, murmuring reassurances too softly for him to hear, Keith moved to stand by the head of the table. Once they put the black paladin under, it would be his job to be ready to reassure him if he started to fight the anesthesia in a subconscious response to the situation’s similarities to what he’d been through before. While he hopefully wouldn’t be needed, it was a relief to have something useful to do instead of waiting outside with the rest of the team, even if that was just watching Shiro’s heartrate and breathing during the surgery.

 

The anesthesiologist got to work, and within minutes Shiro was out like a light. Keith breathed a sigh of relief that the process had gone smoothly as the technician, the shortest Altean the red paladin had ever seen, turned to Matt and exchanged comments in rapid Galran. It was strange, hearing the actual language being spoken and not being able to understand a word of it, but he and Shiro couldn’t wear their armor in the operating room so he had no link to the Castle-ship’s translators. All he could hear was hissed consonants and long rolled R’s that sounded oddly familiar even if he didn’t know what they meant sliding easily off the tongues of Matt and the other doctors as the room became a hive of activity.

 

The Olkari engineer-medic was already disassembling the upper part of the prosthetic that encased what was left of Shiro’s arm, exposing rough white scar tissue that seemed to flow unevenly onto the edge of the metal where the two met, and several lingering trails of white travelled further up the arm hinting at the original injury that had necessitated the replacement. Keith felt a renewed surge of anger toward Haggar for what she and her druids had done to the man who was practically a brother to him in all but blood. Given the opportunity, he would make her pay in full for her crimes.

 

The surgeon, a Balmeran with long, nimble fingers, stepped forward and began the delicate process of removing the arm once and for all, and Keith’s gaze dropped to Shiro’s face, slack with unconsciousness under the oxygen mask. Revenge would wait until later. Right now he was needed by his brother’s side while they worked to take away any chance of her using what she’d done against him.

 

__________

 

Colleen let out a few choice words as the morning sun finally rose high enough to slide its rays over the windowsill and send them stabbing directly towards her eyeballs. Throwing herself out of the rickety wooden chair she’d been sitting in at the computer all night, she strode across the room and yanked the curtains shut before the offending star could turn the small shack into an oven. Ryou, sprawled across the couch with his face pressed into the seam of the research journal he’d fallen asleep over, never so much as stirred.

 

The older woman sighed. She considered waking him, but the bags under his eyes were every bit as deep as her own and an uncomfortable sleep was better than no sleep at all. They’d both been pushing themselves trying to solve the mystery of the blue lion cave and figure out what it had to do with a lost space expedition and four missing cadets, and so far they had almost nothing to show for their efforts aside from even more questions than they’d started with.

 

Ryou had started by tackling the writing they’d found on the wall of the lower cave, comparing it to other archeological sites in the area first and then moving outwards in the hopes of finding other samples that might be used to translate the inscriptions, but had quickly discovered that no such samples existed. The writing, assuming that’s actually what it was, he told her, was the only known sample of whatever language it was. Furthermore, it appeared to be a language isolate to boot, without even a passing similarity to any known language alive or dead. There was simply no point of reference he could use as a starting point to interpret the meaning of the symbols.

 

The only possible clue they had was the row of drawings etched below the panel of enigmatic script. Eight discrete pictures, incredibly detailed and precise given how old Ryou’s tests had suggested they were, with thin lines that had been filled in with some sort of vibrant and long-lasting dyes whose composition baffled not only Ryou but also a chemist friend of his who he’d sent a sample to for study. The only thing the other had been able to tell them was that it didn’t match any known substance on Earth, or anything turned up at the Luna domes or Mars base either.

 

The row of images plainly depicted a story of some sort, although what story that was they had yet to figure out. In the first image, the center was filled by a large humanoid figure that seemed to be made of five smaller figures shaped like lions. The one making up the torso and head was black, the right arm red, the left green, the right leg blue, and the left yellow. Gathered beside the large figure were two groups of five smaller humanoid figures, each member of each group having one of the same colours as the large figure. One set of five, those closer to the large figure, was depicted larger than the other, with a V-shaped symbol on their chests, and Colleen was of the opinion that it denoted some sort of ranking, putting them above the other group. The final component of that image was many small figures gathered around the rest in a loose crowd, some purple and some aquamarine, mixed together in no apparent pattern. She and Ryou both agreed that this was likely the set-up image for the story being told, setting the scene for the images that came after it.

 

Such as the second. The large multicoloured figure was gone and a deep gash bisected the scene. On one side were the five lion-figures, now separated, and most of the other colourful figures. The larger yellow figure and the smaller blue, red, and green stood beside the lions, while the small black and yellow and the large red and green lay flat with streaks of red across their bodies in unmistakable indication of death. Facing them on the other side of divide were the large black and blue figures, the former carrying a long, thin shape, possibly a weapon of some kind, edged with the same red that marked the fallen figures. And the surrounding crowd was split between the two sides, with nearly all the aquamarine on the side with the lions, and nearly all the purple opposing them.

 

By comparison to the first two, which were fairly obvious in their depiction of a society suddenly split by internal conflict and treachery, the third image was downright baffling. It depicted only the blue lion and the smaller of the two blue figures, the one without the V-symbol, standing together facing sideways and surrounded by some sort of blue aura. Above the humanoid figure’s outstretched hands was a much smaller image of the blue lion inside a circle, with tiny purple figures above that in a pose that suggested, at least to Ryou’s eye, that they were walking past. Beyond that he was as confused by it as she was. The fourth wasn’t much better, showing a circle containing the yellow and black lions and the remaining yellow figure, while the red, green, and blue lions and their matching humanoids were outside the circle in a pose of running away in pairs and purple figures as well as the large blue and black stared down at the circle from above.

 

The fifth image showed only the blue lion-figure, inside an outline of a cave inside a mountain inside a large circle. Ryou suspected that the cave and mountain in question were the same ones where they had found all the carvings. Colleen thought so as well, especially given the sixth drawing. In that one the blue lion, still inside the cave, was approached by another set of five figures in the same colours, black, red, green, yellow, and blue, while overhead the same star patterns from before hung over the mountain. The match to the drawings in the upper part of the cave was unmistakeable, and indeed in the seventh drawing the blue lion soared away from a circle again accompanied by the five figures, headed toward a familiar portal image. And in the eighth and final drawing, the five humanoids were joined once more by the multi-coloured figure from the first drawing, standing together with two aquamarine figures opposite the same blue and black figures from before and their entourage of purple and a few aquamarine.

 

Given the impossibility of translating the actual words, Ryou had been focusing on trying to match the images to events in ancient history, either directly or symbolically, but so far he hadn’t had any success. The groups of five, the repeating colours, and the images of lions all had to mean something, but what exactly that was continued to elude him if the puddle of drool on the journal smushed against his face was any indication.

 

Colleen, for her part, was no historian. She wouldn’t have known where to start. So she had turned her efforts in a different direction, dusting off Keith’s computers (stolen from the Garrison, she noted approvingly), booting them up, and putting to work everything her daughter had taught her about making online security systems her bitch.

 

Sam’s access codes, never deleted from the database in the two years since that fateful mission, only got her so far. While he had had access to a certain amount of classified materials, it was mostly things relevant to his position as one of the country’s leading experts on extraplanetary geology and hydrology. She combed through it all anyway, but nothing seemed unusual, let alone cover-up worthy. Not that she’d expected to find it so easily. And that was where Katie came in.

 

While she’d been pregnant with Matthew, Colleen and her husband had read many, many books on parenting, covering everything from during the pregnancy all the way up through the teenage years. The information had been confusing, contradictory, and often generally unhelpful as the years went by. But one piece of advice she’d taken firmly to heart was the importance of participating in your child’s interests in order to encourage and bond with them. In Matt’s case, the path that led him to looking for primitive life forms on a distant moon had begun with late-night stargazing and aquariums full of frogs, lizards, bugs, and all manner of creepy crawly things, which meant that Katie’s early interest in computers had been a welcome relief.

 

Right up until the ‘Mommy, look, I hacked the Pentagon!’ incident, anyway.

 

The end result, though, was that over the last twenty years Colleen Holt had amassed a considerable knowledge base about space, biology, medicine, and the ins and outs of computers, networks, and software. She had taught her daughter the art of protecting her information from even the most determined hacker, with hardcopy and shorthand codes, and in return Katie had taught her all the tips and tricks to getting the information the criminals she prosecuted for a living didn’t want her to find.

 

As she worked, breaking through the Garrison’s firewalls and protections layer by layer, she kept hearing Katie’s voice in her head explaining how to counter this or circumvent that, how to find the weak points and cut holes invisible unless you knew where to look. It was painful, given that she hadn’t heard her in person in a year and a half, but if she did this right, then dammit, she’d hear it again and that was enough to help her keep pushing through.

 

The computer beeped softly at her, another scan of the Garrison’s central database complete, and she quickly crossed the room again to see what her latest search had turned up.

 

The more she had looked, the less things made sense. She’d found records of the Garrison’s efforts to buy the area where the local base was located, a process begun roughly sixteen years earlier, and of the land surveys they’d done. But it looked as though the surveys had come  _ after _ they’d already started trying to get the land. And the recommendation for contracting an archeologist had been attached to a land survey dated almost two years after the first attempt to purchase. If the cave was the reason they’d bought the land, then why did it look as though they’d only discovered it after they’d begun trying to purchase the area?

 

And when she tried to find any record of previous Garrison activity in the area, the only thing she’d found was an incident report from a few months before the first move toward buying the land. A group of soldiers on an unspecified exercise had found...something, out in the middle of the desert near here, but there were so many redactions and classified passages in the report that she couldn’t for the life of her figure out exactly what had happened. Some sort of confrontation, but with  _ what? _ Not to mention the clearance levels required for the hidden sections. There couldn’t be more than two or three people at the local base who had the necessary codes to read it, and Colleen was hesitant to try to break through herself for fear of giving away her illegal access if she tripped some sort of alarm.

 

It wasn’t what she was after, anyway, so she’d left it alone for the time being, turning her attention back toward the cave and the Garrison’s study of it. When she did eventually find the relevant files, she was pleased to see that whoever had been contracted hadn’t made much more progress than she and Ryou in their study of the upper cave. Oddly enough, though, much of the analysis of the lower cave seemed to be just as heavily restricted as the incident report, with many of the same clearances required. She’d spent several hours staring at the conspiracy board and trying to divine an explanation for the fact that a mysterious incident in the desert and a cave full of strange writing would be heavily classified by the military’s space branch and require the same access permissions for both, and the post-it notes and red thread had stared mockingly back without giving up their secrets.

 

Sinking back into her chair with a sigh, she pulled up the results of her latest search through the Garrison’s files. Frustrated with the lack of progress with the cave, she’d decided to simply call up all files from the night Katie and her classmates had vanished, with a 48 hour window on either side of that night for thoroughness. There would be a lot to comb through, but maybe it would give her some new leads.

 

An incident report started back at her, and Colleen blinked in surprise. Something about damaged ATVs and injured personnel in pursuit of another vehicle. Failure to intercept and recover the target, who or whatever that was. Three ATVs had been wrecked and almost a dozen people injured, apparently, all upper-ranked officers.

 

Another file, another report. Three officers, including Iverson, knocked unconscious by an assailant whose name was blacked out, and someone else, name also classified, had been abducted by the attacker and several others.

 

Video files, locked under the same heavy clearances required as the cave and the incident sixteen years earlier.

 

Communications transcripts with Luna base.  _ (Redacted) observed on insertion trajectory. Estimated point of impact 0.6 miles south of Arizona Garrison. _

 

Another, Mars station this time.  _ (Redacted) changed course to intercept (redacted) but failed to reach them before (redacted). Last seen moving out of system, thank god. _

 

On and on. Incident reports, communication transcripts, security footage, observation files. All of it with massive chunks of information locked behind heavy security clearances that should have made it inaccessible to nearly everyone below Iverson on the chain of command. All of it the same restrictions as the analysis of the blue lion cave and the lone incident from sixteen years ago. Something enormous had happened in the span of roughly sixteen hours, during which three cadets and one former cadet had vanished from a military base and their disappearance covered up, something that the highest reaches of the army didn’t want anyone else to know about, even their lower-ranked personnel at that very same facility.

 

Colleen frowned, staring at the blacked out passages, then made her decision. She hooked up her laptop to Keith’s bulky desktop, and started transferring out all the classified files she’d turned up in her various searches. While the computers worked away, she got up and firmly shook Ryou awake. “Get up and start packing up.” She ordered as he stared blearily at her in confusion. “I’m going to be trying to break high-level military security codes and I want to be ready to move fast if they come after us.” Leaving him staring after her, she headed back to her laptop and set to work.

 

________

 

“Easy, buddy, I got you.” Hunk easily caught the black paladin as he stumbled forward out of the healing pod, giving him a reassuring smile as the older man blinked up at him in bleary confusion.

 

The surgery to remove the Galran prosthetic had gone off without a hitch. Just two hours after Shiro had been put under for the procedure, a smiling Matt had emerged and announced they were ready to proceed with the next stage. A short flight in Yellow later, the unconscious paladin was being placed in a healing pod while the entire team clustered around protectively and waited for him to wake up.

 

It was strange, looking into the pod and not seeing the familiar grey metal of the Galra prosthetic. Instead Shiro’s arm ended a few inches above where the elbow would have been, old pale scar tissue covering the end of it and trailing upward over his bicep. Once the healing pod finished its work, the line where the stump had been closed after the removal of the old arm would be impossible to find amid the old scars from the grafting of Haggar’s enhancement. It didn’t matter, though, since the new prosthetic would cover the scars whenever it was being worn.

 

Shiro groaned, trying to push himself upright from Hunk’s arms, and nearly toppled sideways with a yelp as the absence of his right arm to push with caught him by surprise. Hunk quickly caught him, letting out a small laugh at the embarrassed blush coating the other man’s cheeks. “Don’t worry, Matt warned us that would probably happen. Let’s get you sitting down, okay?” He guided Shiro over to a chair beside the worktable where his new arm was waiting.

 

As they approached, the yellow paladin felt a flicker of tension in his teammate’s body at the sight of the prosthetic laying on the table, a momentary hesitation in his movement that had Hunk glancing sideways in concern. There was a trace of fear in the lines around Shiro’s eyes as he stared at the arm on the worktable, and after a moment the large teen realized the problem. The last time he would have seen an unattached prosthetic arm like this would have been just before Haggar grafted the old one to his flesh.

 

“Easy, Shiro. It’s okay. This one is like Alejandro’s, remember? He showed you his.” The black paladin nodded stiffly, but seemed to uncoil a little as they moved toward the table. Keith and Kurogane stepped forward to meet them, both wearing identical expressions of protective concern as they helped the still-unsteady man into his seat. Their presence seemed to relax him further, and by the time Matt and the Olkari technician who’d come over with them stepped forward to examine the remainder of his right arm, his anxiety seemed to have dissipated.

 

Matt gave Shiro a brief one-armed hug as he ran the scanner over the arm and made a pleased sound at the results. “Looks good. Everything healed up properly, and the transmitter chip is connected properly. Ready to try on the new arm?”

 

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” The paladin gave a weak, shaky smile and took a deep breath, looking around the room as if to remind himself that it wasn’t a druid laboratory. Keith quickly took Shiro’s other hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze while Hunk set his hand on the man’s shoulder. They were all there, they’d help their friend feel safe when he was at his most vulnerable.

 

With help from the tech and Pidge, Matt positioned the arm so Shiro would be able to easily slide his stump into the socket. “On your own time.” He said gently. “Remember, you’re the one in control here.”

 

It was a necessary reminder. Hunk could feel a slight tremble in the man’s body under his hand, but he was clearly determined to push through the anxiety. Another deep breath, a slight shift in position, and he was pushing his arm into place almost before they realized it. Matt’s eyes widened in surprise, but he gave Shiro a smile beaming with pride and affection as the Olkari leaned in to make the final adjustments to the fit of the device.

 

“There we go. And we have power.” She made the final connection and stepped back, gesturing expectantly at the black paladin. “You’re all set. Try it out.”

 

Shiro made a small sound of surprise that Hunk would have found hilarious if it wasn’t so upsetting that he’d clearly anticipated the process being painful. Alejandro had reassured all of them that he couldn’t even feel his prosthetics gripping onto his legs unless he actually tried to notice them, and they were far more comfortable than anything Earth could have produced, but feeling was clearly believing in this case.

 

Tentatively, he started by curling the fingers, watching his hand as he bent them in toward the palm in ones and twos. Gaining confidence from the responsiveness of the limb, he started working the wrist and elbow before cautiously lifting the arm off the table entirely. His eyebrows shot up instantly. “It’s lighter than the other one.” he noted.

 

“Different materials.” The Olkari explained, looking pleased. “Just as sturdy, however. And the load distribution is different, obviously, so it there should be less strain on the remaining natural limb, especially the bone.”

 

Shiro nodded in confirmation, curling and uncurling the arm experimentally. “The old one made my arm ache all the way to the shoulder sometimes.” he admitted, reddening and pretending not to hear Matt’s exasperated noise at the after-the-fact admission. “This one doesn’t hurt at all.”

 

“If it did it would mean we’d done our job wrong.”

 

Hunk grinned, clapping Shiro on the shoulder. “Ready to put your arm through its paces with me and Pidge while everyone else gets your party ready?” he asked cheerfully, and was pleased to see the older man’s comfortable nod. While not technically necessary to establish that the arm was functioning properly--the Olkari had looked distinctly affronted at the very idea that such a thing might be necessary--testing the motion of each part of the arm would help Shiro adjust to the differences from the old one and establish a baseline to help them recognize if there was a problem.

 

With the exception of Hunk, Pidge, Keith, and Alejandro, the rest of the team cleared out to get the Castle ready for a celebration in honour of the big step Shiro had taken today. Not only had he gotten rid of part of Haggar’s influence on him, but he had also looked some of his worst traumas in the eye and pushed through the fear. Hunk could feel Yellow purring in loud approval of the head of Voltron’s determination and strength, and had no doubt the others were hearing the same. He chuckled as he heard the black paladin mutter out loud for Black to hush, that it wasn’t that big a deal.

 

“The Lions are right, Shiro, you did great today.” He said proudly, and smiled as the man blushed at having been overheard. “That can’t have been easy after everything you’ve been through.”

 

Shiro sighed, taking the prosthetic through movements as Pidge demonstrated them. The green paladin was perched on the edge of a table so she could move her legs as well, demonstrating movements for Alejandro’s baseline now that Hunk had had a chance to give his legs a badly-needed tune-up. “No, it wasn’t. But it’s done now.”

 

“And you handled it like a boss.” Pidge declared firmly, extending one leg and rotating her ankle before holding her arm out to the side and flexing. “I don’t know how many of us could have done the same thing.”

 

Alejandro nodded in agreement as he extended his own leg in mimicry. “I know I couldn’t. First time I had a power outage in Blue after I lost these,” he tapped his outstretched left thigh, “I broke down crying and had to be hauled back to the Castle by Black in the middle of the battle.” He grimaced. “Still hate being in a dark cockpit.”

 

Shiro frowned in concern at the older blue paladin. “Well that’s understandable. Being trapped in the dark in a wrecked lion with a life-threatening injury had to be an incredibly traumatic experience--”

 

“Almost as traumatic as having your arm ripped to shreds in a to-the-death battle and the remains cut off and replaced with a weaponized prosthetic fused to your flesh,  _ Shiro _ .” Alejandro shot back, giving the black paladin a frankly disapproving stare for the blatant attempt to downplay his own experiences. Shiro looked so startled by the expressìon that Hunk burst out laughing. He’d run the numbers with Kurogane, and although the two time travellers had lost track of the exact time intervals between events as things had gone downhill in their own timeline, he had managed to determine that Kurogane and Alejandro were around the same age as Shiro or possibly slightly older, enabling them to use the disapproving-older-brother stare on a man who was not at all used to being on the receiving end of those looks.

 

“Boys, boys, you’re both traumatized.” Pidge muttered, making Hunk snort again and Alejandro laugh. “Although our point stands, Shiro. You were really brave today, and you should be proud of yourself.”

 

The black paladin allowed himself a small smile at her words as he continued with the motions to get a feel for his arm. With a final glance to make sure everything was under control Hunk slipped out of the room, heading for the kitchen. With the addition of class 1 and 2 rations to his kitchen, he thought he might finally be able to craft reasonably authentic-tasting katsudon for their friend.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings for this chapter: Very brief non-graphic smut in the last two paragraphs of the italicized section.
> 
> And we're already at chapter 20 and officially past 100k words posted! I definitely did not expect this fic to get this long, but we've still got a looong way to go.
> 
> Also, enjoy the fluff. It's gonna be a while before you see more of it.

_ The sand is warm against his back, still holding the day’s heat even after the blazing glory of a binary star system sunset has faded from the sky leaving only far-distant stars overhead. The only sounds are the hush of gentle waves against the shore and the rustle of a subtle breeze as it passes through the nearby treetops. _

 

_ A gentle touch against his cheek has him turning his head to face his companion, meeting the gently smiling gaze of Keith, regarding him with a thoughtful expression. _

 

_ He feels a smile of his own stretch his cheeks in response. “What are you thinking about so intensely?” _

 

_ A faint blush dusts the red paladin’s cheeks and he ducks his head slightly as his smile widens. “How pretty your eyes look with the stars reflected in them.” _

 

_ He groans, dragging his hands down his suddenly burning face. “Quiznack, Keith, you can’t just say things like that, oh my god…” _

 

_ “Say things like what?” Keith’s voice is a teasing purr and suddenly the other young man is rolling over on top of him, bracing his hands into the sand on either side of him and his chest warm and solid against his own as he straddles him. “Thing like how you’re the most handsome man I’ve ever seen? Like how incredibly strong and brave you are, whether your opponent is an Empire commander or a laser crab--” _

 

_ “Hey, now those things are vicious! Shiro needed bandaids and everything!” _

 

_ “--or like how I want to kiss you senseless under the stars right now until you never, ever forget how much I love you?” _

 

_ He falls silent, staring up at Keith with wide eyes. The other’s eyes are black as ink in the dim light of the stars, not the milky way but some other galaxy an uncountable distance across the universe, gazing at him with that same burning passion that the red paladin turns towards everything that matters to him. His response dies unformed in his throat, and he reaches up to wrap his hands around the other, pale skin soft under his touch as he pulls him down. Chapped lips meet his as if laser guided, tasting of dry heat and salt and sand when he runs his tongue across them. _

 

_ Keith kisses him until he sees stars that have no relation to the ones in the sky and they’re both panting for air when he finally pulls back. The other male’s hair hangs loose and dishevelled around his face and he looks thoroughly pleased with himself for having already wrecked him so completely. _

 

_ He’s given barely a moment to catch his breath, though, before Keith leans in once more, and he doesn’t realize the red paladin’s hand has moved until he’s gasping into his boyfriend’s mouth at the sudden firm contact. He groans, bucking as the touch continues and digging his nails into the firm muscles of Keith’s back as he lets out a soft, pleading whine in the back of his throat. _

 

_ Everything turns to heat and lightning on sensitive nerves after that, confident hands and rough mouth and fingers tangled in soft hair and Keith’s eyes like black liquid fire burning into his soul just before his vision goes white, until they both collapse in a shuddering heap into sand gone cold under their warm bodies and fall asleep together under the stars. _

 

Lance’s eyes snapped open, his heart pounding in his chest as forcefully as it had been in the dream he’d been having.

 

It wasn’t the first time he’d had an inappropriate dream about Keith, far from it. But this time the Keith in his dream had looked older, with longer hair and more scars scattered across his body. Which meant it hadn’t been Keith in his dream at all, but Kurogane, and god if that wasn’t the most embarrassing, horrifying thing he’d ever done in a life that had included a decent number of embarrassing, horrifying things, having a sex dream about his time-travelling older self’s romantic life partner who was also an older version of the boy he himself was very much interested in.

 

Pushing himself upright and trying very, very hard to ignore the uncomfortable tightness in his pajama pants, Lance cast a quick look around. Alejandro and Kurogane were nowhere to be seen, although he could faintly hear fading footsteps in the hallway, and Keith was still sound asleep just like everyone else, thank god. He didn’t know what he’d have done if any of them had been here and awake, there was absolutely no way he was going to be able to look any one of those three in the eye for  _ weeks _ without spontaneously combusting.

 

Somehow managing to get to his feet without disturbing any of the others, he made a hasty escape in the direction of the living quarters. He needed a very long,  _ very _ cold shower.

 

_______

  
  


“I thought we agreed being a social recluse was my thing?” Pidge was pleased to see the blue paladin jump as she pulled herself up over the curve of Blue’s shoulder and onto her back. He obviously hadn’t been expecting anyone to try to intrude on his self-imposed solitude, especially not all the way up here, but hey, curiosity was one of her aspects and she didn’t have a grappling hook for a bayard for nothing. “Because seriously, warn a girl before you steal her gig.”

 

Lance huffed in annoyance, drawing his knees up to his chest. “I am not being a social recluse. I just didn’t feel like being around people today.”

 

“Mm, fair, I get that.” She acknowledged, moving to sit beside him but still giving him space. “It’s been pretty hectic lately, with all the missions and everything. I don’t think anyone would blame you if you wanted to stay back at the Castle for a quiet day since we don’t have anything planned.”

 

“It’s not that, actually. I’ve been doing pretty okay lately. I just...wanted to be alone for a bit.” 

 

She squinted at him. Were his cheeks red? “Did something happen between you and Keith? You’ve been hardcore avoiding him today.”

 

“I have not!” Okay, that was a definite lie, and wow were this boy’s cheeks on fire now at the mention of his crush. She was definitely onto something.

 

Pidge grinned mischievously and pushed her glasses up under her visor. “Totally have. You always sit next to him at breakfast, but this time you sat at the far end of the table and you wouldn’t even  _ look _ at him. Poor kid looked like you kicked his dog.” Her description was rewarded by a flash of guilt across the older teen’s features, although the darkening of his cheeks didn’t lessen any.

 

“I am  _ not _ avoiding Keith.”

 

“Totally are. Have you even spoken to him at all today? Or did you just climb up here as soon as we switched ships?” Lance grumbled something in Spanish under his breath that probably would have gotten him a swat across the ear from his mother, but Pidge didn’t even bat an eye. “Also, you bailed on breakfast so fast you didn’t get to see Alejandro’s giant-ass hickey when he and Kurogane finally showed up. Pretty sure he was walking funny, too, no wonder it took--are you okay?” She looked over in concern. Lance had gone so red he was nearly purple, and was making a very odd choking noise. She studied the blue paladin carefully, taking note of the way he seemed on the verge of spontaneously combusting. “...Did you walk in on them or something? Is that why you bolted when you heard them coming?”

 

“I did  _ not _ walk in on them!” Lance shrieked, his voice oddly high-pitched and his face turning a fascinating variety of colours before he hid it in his knees with a small whining noise.

 

Pidge shot him a frankly disbelieving look. “Then why are you acting so weird today?! Obviously  _ something _ happened this morning that you’re all freaked out about.”

 

There was a long pause before the blue paladin mumbled something very quietly into his knees.

 

The green paladin sighed, shifting closer to him. “What was that? I couldn’t hear you.”

 

“I  _ said _ ,” Lance lifted his head once more, and she was surprised to see how genuinely unhappy he looked under the mortified blush, “I had a dream about Kurogane. An inappropriate one.”

 

Pidge fixed her teammate with a deadpan stare. “Really? Is that all?”

 

The blue paladin spluttered, staring back at her with wide eyes. “What do you mean  _ is that all?! _ I had a sex dream about Keith’s future self who is very, very much committed to  _ my _ future self! That’s, like, beyond not cool, bro!”

 

She sighed, smacking her face into her palm exasperatedly. God save her from these hormonal boys. “Dude. It was a  _ dream _ . You don’t control what you dream about, Lance. Trust me. I mean, you think you and Alejandro and Kurogane and Shiro  _ choose _ to have nightmares all the damn time? Hell no! Therefore you obviously didn’t choose to have a sex dream either, much less who it was about. Ask Matt about Iverson in hot pants sometime, prime example.” She laughed. “He has the best reaction when you bring it up.”

 

“Um. Yeah. I’ll pass.” Lance looked a bit ill at the mental image. “Although I can see your point.”

 

“Good. So get your head out of your ass and go talk to Keith.” she ordered, pushing herself to her feet. Honestly, how had those two ever gotten together by the time they came back in time? She felt a pang of sympathy for her other self and having to deal with the endless amounts of pining Keith and Lance always seemed to be directing at each other. “Maybe take him somewhere nice as an apology, like the hydroponics deck or something. He always seems so fascinated when we go to worlds with lots of plants.”

 

Without waiting for a response Pidge pulled out her bayard, launched it to hook around Blue’s ear, and kicked off the Lion’s shoulder, swinging in a wide circle as she lowered herself slowly toward the distant hangar floor. As she dropped, however, the green paladin was already turning the conversation over in her head.

 

First Lance had had a nightmare about the Weblum’s Breath and the destruction of Earth, at least according to Hunk. Then he’d admitting to have dreamed about the fight with Haggar where she’d taken control of Shiro and used him to hurt Kurogane. Neither of these were totally unreasonable things for him to dream about, given how much those events been discussed. The amount of detail in the dreams he’d described, however, was enough to give her pause and make her wonder.

 

And now he’d apparently had a sex dream about Kurogane the same night his older self had admitted to dreaming about happier times for once when she’d been teasing him relentlessly about the love bites on his neck.

 

By the time her feet hit the hangar floor, Pidge was more convinced than ever that something strange was going on involving the two blue paladins, something they didn’t even seem to be aware of themselves. Keith hadn’t mentioned experiencing anything like this, but then Kurogane hadn’t had an active Lion bond when he came back in time, nor had his Lion been the one used to come back. The two time-travellers were the only ones who knew anything about how the process worked, and that was practically nothing, so who knew what kind of weird side-effects there were? Was Alejandro experiencing any sort of strangeness too, or was Lance for some reason the only one affected?

 

Green purred as she went in search of the older man, intent on finding out more.

 

_______

 

“You aren’t subtle, Pidge!” Lance yelled after the green paladin’s disappearing back. Huffing, he crossed his legs and slouched unhappily on Blue’s back. He could feel his Lion’s intense amusement at his embarrassment, as well as her approval of the younger’s suggested course of action. “Neither are you, for that matter. Does everyone know I like Keith except Keith?” Her rumbling purr of laughter was accompanied by the mental impression that yes, they most definitely did, even before his older self showed up joined at the hip to Keith’s future counterpart. “Oh, shut up.”

 

Sighing, he stretched, twisting his joints this way and that until they cracked and popped. Pidge had made some good points about the dream he’d had at least. Yeah, it was embarrassing, but it wasn’t his fault. And as long as the nosy brat kept her mouth shut, no one ever had to know. Her suggestion of taking Keith somewhere to spend time with him, under the guise of an apology, was also appealing. The red paladin wasn’t the only one who’d disliked not sitting together at breakfast.

 

Rubbing thoughtfully at a scuff on his armor, he considered her idea. A hydroponics deck? Keith liked plants even if he didn’t seem to know what to do with them after growing up in the desert. It’d be the next best thing to taking him to a botanical garden back on Earth, with the added bonus of alien plants. Who knew what kind of funky stuff they’d see?

 

As if sensing his intention even before it was fully formed, Blue crouched low to the deck, turning a huge drop into a manageable slide over her side. Laughing, Lance patted her shoulder. “Okay, okay, I’ll find Keith and take him to look at the plants! Geez!” He could feel her purr through his armor as he slid carefully off, hitting the floor with a loud clang. “Can you at least give me a hint about where he is? Speed things up a little?” There was a pause, during which Blue purred aloud and Red growled back from the far end of the hangar, before he received an impression of a large open training deck filled with aliens of all shapes and sizes. “Right. Ask a stupid question. Wish me luck, beautiful!”

 

________

 

“Dammit, Blue, stop laughing! This isn’t funny!”

 

Keith pretended to blow on his hands for warmth to hide the fact that he was actually using them to muffle his own laughter. The blue paladin didn’t seem to know whether to throw up his hands in frustration or wrap them around himself for warmth as he shivered in the frigid air that seemed to cut right through their undersuits in a way that the vacuum of space never did.

 

“Blue, seriously, I’m freezing my underwear off in here! Just tell Yellow to tell Hunk we--Blue!” Lance sputtered indignantly, turning to face Keith with a highly offended expression. “She shut me out!”

 

That was the last straw as Keith doubled over laughing at the look on the other teen’s face. He knew the situation was no laughing matter, but the other boy’s dismayed expression was so comical he couldn’t help himself. “I-I guess she thinks her paladin should be able to handle a little snow?” He wheezed as he tried to get himself under control.

 

Lance, whose cheeks seemed to be going pink even under the sealed visor of his helmet, huffed and turned away as he wrapped his arms tighter around himself. “Then she should have chosen a paladin who wasn’t from quiznacking  _ Cuba! _ Who even puts a freaking glacier inside a ship?!”

 

“Icebringers, apparently.” Keith joked. The whole situation was rather ridiculous, he had to admit.

 

After the way Lance had steadfastly avoided him all morning and for a good chunk of the afternoon, Keith had been wracking his brain trying to think of what he’d done to push the other away. Had he crossed a line with something he’d said the night before? Been too clingy in his sleep again? Had the blue paladin figured out he liked him and been weirded out and uncomfortable? Eventually he’d made himself so worked up mentally that all he could do was try to distract himself with training, sparring anyone who was willing to go a round or two with him until exhaustion forced him to take a break.

 

As it turned out though, he’d been worried for nothing. Lance showed up in the middle of his third attempt to convince a muscular Altean that just because he wasn’t on the other’s list of approved sparring partners didn’t mean they couldn’t train together anyway. The blue paladin had pulled him aside and awkwardly apologized for being distant, saying that he’d had a lot on his mind that morning, and would he like to go check out the hydroponics deck with him to make up for it? Keith had to sternly remind himself that this wasn’t an offer of a date, just hanging out as an apology, but that didn’t stop him from eagerly accepting the offer.

 

The hydroponics deck was huge, separated into climate-controlled sections with motion-sensor airlocks between them. One section was arid, somewhere between Texas and Arizona in climate, with alien cousins of cacti and palm trees clustered in tanks full of dry sandy soil. Another was tropical and so humid they could hardly breath, and Keith half expected to find rain pouring down on them before they made it to the far side.

 

As they walked, he found himself often grabbing Lance’s hand and dragging him over to examine some interesting plant. He let go as soon as he realized what he was doing, but the blue paladin didn’t seem to mind, and he would occasionally do the same in return. And if the darker teen forgot to let go once or twice while leaning down to examine a tiny flower or colourful bush, well, Keith sure as hell wasn’t going to complain about that. As an added bonus, he got to yank Lance backwards into his arms when an innocent looking flower surrounded by what were probably numerous warning labels in various scripts nearly took the blue paladin’s nose off.

 

In retrospect, they probably should have taken note of the design of the warnings, and recognized them on the wall before they entered the last section of the deck.

 

The moment they’d stepped out of the airlock, they’d been chilled instantly by brutally cold air that had them scrambling to seal their helmets. Unlike the other areas of the hydroponics deck, where the plants had been confined to tanks and trellises in neat orderly rows, this area seemed more like a miniature habitat, with snow crunching underfoot and walls painted a pale blue-grey that made judging the distance to the far wall almost impossible. Scattered through the area were tall trees that bore a distinct resemblance to Earth evergreens, with downward-sloping branches and triangular needles for leaves. The whole place was bitterly cold, with a steady artificial wind that seemed to cut right to the bone.

 

It was also secured from the inside by a bioscanner. One that, when they tried it, did not recognize humans.

 

So here they were, trying to figure out how to get out of this locked, frigid room. None of their teammates were answering their coms, and Blue apparently found the whole thing too funny for her to actually help her paladin.

 

“It’s weird, though.” Keith continued, glancing around now that he’d managed to get his laughter under control. “Why is this one locked from the inside? None of the other areas were.” He frowned, studying the disposition of the trees beside him. “And it’s so spread out, too. Almost reminds me of a zoo habitat. Don’t you think?” He glanced up when the other didn’t answer. “Lance?”

 

The blue paladin had gone very still and pale, staring at something behind Keith from his place by the door. “I think…” he said, his voice very soft and nervous “...that that’s exactly what it is.”

 

There was a loud crunching noise of crackling ice behind him, and a whuffing noise that instantly put the red paladin in mind of angry farm bulls back in Texas. He whirled.

 

Four dark eyes equally spaced around a massive head stared down at him. Wide flat horns with up-curved tips stretched far to either side of the skull with its short, flattened muzzle. Six massive triple-jointed legs ended in viciously serrated hoof-like structures that dug easily into the ice. And steam puffed from several nostrils as the thing whuffed again just inches from his face.

 

Staring up at the creature towering over them, Keith abruptly remembered. H’ress were insanely fast, incredibly agile, armed with many sharp teeth and claws, and were roughly the size of Earth horses. But they still hunted in packs.

 

“Lance…” Keith whispered, backing up very slowly to stand beside the blue paladin. They were caught between an enormous, aggressive animal and a locked door, not a pleasant position to be in. “Don’t move. Maybe if we stay still and quiet it’ll leave us alone.”

 

The animal snorted again, staring them down. Then it reared onto its two rear pairs of legs, freeing the foremost set of hooves for kicking, and  _ shrieked _ .

 

“Or not! Run!”

 

Keith grabbed Lance’s hand and pulled him sideways as a hoof lashed through the space the blue paladin’s head had occupied a moment before. The other teen didn’t need to be told twice, slipping and stumbling on the icy, uneven surface behind him as they sprinted along the edge of the chamber. He could hear ice cracking behind them under the thing’s hooves and ran faster, pulling Lance along behind him. The red paladin felt suddenly ten years old again, running from the neighbour’s bull when he accidentally strayed over the property line of that foster family who lived fifty miles from anywhere and into the field guarded by a particularly aggressive longhorn. He’d faced down Galra soldiers, druids, and Zarkon himself, but this?  _ This _ was how he was going to die, gored to death by pissed-off alien cattle.

 

Abruptly he realized that the crashing and shrieking behind them had stopped and the only sound was their own laboured breathing and their boots scraping against the ice. Risking a glance over his shoulder, he realized that the massive creature had broken off the pursuit and was now well behind them amongst the trees..

 

Keith finally slowed his headlong plunge, grinding to a stop and slumping against the wall to catch his breath. Lance was leaning over with his hands on his knees as he panted harshly inside his helmet. “What the quiznack was  _ that _ ?” He gasped out, glancing back the way they’d come.

 

“I don’t know.” The red paladin huffed back, pressing a hand to his aching chest, “and as long as it’s nowhere near us  _ I don’t care _ .”

 

The other teen sighed and dropped down to sit in the snow for a moment before flopping down on his back and pressing his hands over his visor. “Some apology walk this turned into.” He muttered miserably. “I got us locked in a giant icebox and we had to run screaming in terror from the abominable snowman’s pissed off guard-cow.”

 

Keith blinked, then started to laugh again. That was a fairly accurate description of the thing. “Don’t you know?” He wheezed, sliding down the wall to sit on the cold ice underneath them. “Running for your life together is the best bonding exercise there is.”

 

Lance stared back up at him for a moment, cheeks darkening before he burst out laughing as well. For several minutes all the pair could do was howl with amusement, the terror of their desperate sprint giving way to slightly hysterical relief. Eventually, though, it subsided, Keith sighing tiredly as he plucked at piles of snow and loose ice chips on either side of him. He knew they should probably work on figuring out how to get out of here--the temperatures were obvious not suitable for humans and for some reason their suits seemed to work better in the vacuum of space than in extreme environments on the ground--but for now he was just enjoying Lance’s company. Even if he was the one who got them into this mess.

 

“Hey Keith.”

 

“Hm?” Keith hummed the question lazily, drawing little lion designs in the snow with his fingertips.

 

“You know what this kind of reminds me of?”

 

He squinted at the design he was drawing. Those ears were really uneven. “What?”

 

There was a brief silence, Lance not answering. Confused, Keith looked up--and promptly received a faceful of snow plastered against his visor. Yelping, he jerked backwards into the wall, eliciting delighted cackles from the blue paladin. The red paladin growled as he wiped the snow off his helmet, exposing the sight of the lanky teen grinning at him from several feet away. “Oh, I see how it is.” He smirked, scooped up a handful of snow from either side of him, and lunged, sending Lance scrambling for cover with a shriek of dismay.

 

They dodged in and out of the trees, hurling snowballs and slipping around on the ice as they tried to avoid return fire. Keith couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed this much, but something about Lance always seemed to do this to him, make him feel happier and more at ease than he ever had in the rest of his nineteen years. It was one of the many things he loved about the other teen, no matter how hard he tried to squash his feelings and keep them under control. But even if they never became anything more, he couldn’t deny how grateful he was to be able to consider Lance a friend.

 

At one point their mock battle took them uncomfortably close to another of the massive animals that had attacked them near the door and they had to beat a hasty retreat, still laughing breathlessly, but this one seemed more interested in stripping bark off the central trunk of one of the trees, using its wide flat horns to lift branches out of the way, than in the strange noisy little creatures running through the trees nearby.

 

Keith wasn’t sure how long it had been before his helmet com suddenly crackled to life.  _ “Keith? You there, buddy?” _

 

Holding up a hand to halt the latest round of their snowy battle, and earning a disappointed pout from Lance that looked so unfairly cute he had to fight not to blush, Keith tapped his own com. “I’m here, Shiro, what’s up?”

 

_ “Where are you? Is Lance with you? You guys are late for dinner and we were getting worried.” _

 

Late for dinner? Had they been here that long? No wonder Shiro sounded so concerned. As if in response to the new information his stomach rumbled loudly and his cheeks burned in embarrassment. “Yeah, Lance is with me. We were exploring the hydroponics deck and we got trapped in the last room. The one with the snow that’s got a biolock on the inside.”

 

_ “Why is there--nevermind, I’m sure I’ll find out later. Sit tight, I’ll send Pidge to get you out of there.” _ Keith could hear the exasperation in the black paladin’s tone and couldn’t help but feel a little bad for him, having to be in charge of the rest of them. He must feel like he was herding cats some days. No pun intended.

 

“Alright, thanks, Shiro. See you soon.” Breaking connection, Keith looked up at Lance with a wry smile. “Rescue is on the way. We should get back to the door.”

 

He wasn’t very good at reading faces, never had been, but for a moment Keith thought Lance looked almost disappointed at the news.

 

They took their time making their way back toward the door, walking side by side at an easy pace as they wound between clusters of trees. As the metal portal came into sight, they could see Pidge in the open doorway waving them over. The green paladin smirked up at them as they approached, looking quite smug. “I see Lance decided to take my advice about making it up to you for being all awkward today.” She drawled, drawing an embarrassed squawk from the blue paladin.

 

“Yeah. It was a good idea. Thanks, Pidge.” Keith grinned as Lance’s cheeks flared abruptly crimson and he looked away. “I had a really good time.” He added, trying to reassure the blue paladin that there was nothing wrong with having taken advantage of his teammate’s suggestion.

 

Lance seemed to struggle for words for a moment before muttering “Glad to hear it.” and striding through the doorway ahead of them. Unsure what to make of the other’s sudden shift of mood, the red paladin raised an eyebrow at Pidge, who simply smirked wider and turned on her heel to follow Lance.

 

Glancing over his shoulder at the wintery wonderland hidden inside the bowels of the ship, with two sets of human footprints tracking back into the trees, Keith smiled to himself and followed the other two in the direction of the dining hall. He definitely didn’t mind Lance being awkward around him sometimes if it meant he made it up to him like this.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No warnings for this chapter.

A blur of movement was the only warning Alejandro had, but that and long habit were all he needed to duck out of the way as a Tirmant pinwheeled past at eye level. Straightening, he glanced over his shoulder and laughed as he saw the small alien, a speedy puffball with three wings, bounce off the side of a H’ress’s head and flutter off down another corridor. Shaking his head in amusement, the Human continued his wandering along the halls of the ship.

 

While the dream he’d had the night before had been a welcome change from the endless rounds of nightmares, and had resulted in he and Kurogane reliving happier memories together for hours in the dim night-cycle lighting of their private bedroom in the Castle, it had put Alejandro in a restlessly nostalgic mood that set him to wandering around the Long Wind alone while Kurogane joined in on the strategy discussions with Shiro and Allura. As he walked, he trailed his fingers along the wall, feeling the bumps where wall plates met, the different textures of metals, plastics, and forcefields. All around him the ship bustled with life and energy, a floating city of thousands all going about their daily tasks.

 

The Long Wind he’d lived on for over two cycles had been like this, once. So many of the faces here were ones he knew, had fought alongside for years although they didn’t know him now. He knew who flew each fighter ship in the hangar, by name, species, and combat style and skills. He knew who the medics were, the strategists, the repair crews. He knew the cooks and teachers, the artists and the children. He knew their names and faces, what they liked and who they loved and how they lived.

 

He also knew how they died. He’d mourned them all, after all, as the war went on and fighters went to battle but didn’t come back and ships were lost and their people with them, until the last despairing handfuls of faces vanished into burning explosions and cold vacuum and a wave of blazing crimson.

 

Cracked walls and damaged lighting started to overlay themselves in his vision. Alejandro stopped and pressed his forehead to the smooth wall, trying to concentrate on the sensation to ground himself as his breath shuddered in his lungs. That was then, this is now, he reminded himself. Things were going to turn out differently. He wasn’t going to lose any more family. Not again.

 

Before his thoughts could spiral too far a light touch on his shoulder startled him, his head jerking sideways until he met the concerned gaze of Malrento. “Breathe, child.” The old Altean murmured softly, taking an exaggerated breath in demonstration. Alejandro nodded and closed his eyes for a moment, focusing on forcing air into his aching lungs. The comforting hand on his shoulder helped, and shortly his vision cleared. The blue paladin gave Malrento a grateful, albeit shaky smile, receiving a proud one in return. “Better. Is everything alright?”

 

“Yeah.” The word came out hoarsely, and Alejandro had to swallow hard and try again. “Yeah. Just thinking too much.” He glanced down the corridor again, but all he could see was the ship as it was now, full of life and energy, rather than the weary despair that had permeated every corner of the Long Wind as the losing battles they faced wore them down. “It got away from me.”

 

Malrento hummed thoughtfully and patted his shoulder. “Perhaps I can assist with a distraction. A tour of the ship?”

 

Alejandro chuckled and shook his head. “I lived here for two cycles in my own timeline, Malrento, but thank you. Although…” An idea occurred to him and he brightened. “If you’re not busy, I’d be interested in learning more about quintessence. I never really got the chance before, we were spending so much time in battle.” He looked at the Altean hopefully.

 

It was the older alien’s turn to laugh softly. “I would be delighted, Paladin. Come, let us find somewhere comfortable to sit and talk.” Turning away, the Altean set an easy pace deeper into the ship and Alejandro followed alongside. “Before we begin, however, I must warn you that I can only teach you what I know, and that is far from everything.” Malrento’s tone was apologetic as he spoke. “Much knowledge was lost with the destruction of Altea, especially when it came to the uses of quintessence. What I do know has been painstakingly relearned over the last ten thousand cycles by the handful of  _ amvel nayeta _ born into each generation and passed down to those that came after them.”

 

The blue paladin held up a hand to stop him before he could continue. “Okay, quick question. What exactly is an  _ amvel nayeta _ ? The Castle of Lions doesn’t translate the term. I know Allura said she had the abilities of one.”

 

Malrento nodded in confirmation. “Among Alteans, there are three classes of ability when it comes to quintessence.  _ Amvel solta _ ,  _ amvel malamya _ , and  _ amvel nayeta _ . An  _ amvel solta _ can sense quintessence, but cannot manipulate it in any way. Your Coran is an  _ amvel solta _ , I believe.” Alejandro hummed in agreement, listening carefully. “The second group,  _ amvel malamya _ , have a limited ability to manipulate their own quintessence. It allows them to operate equipment such as your Castle of Lions or to commune with a Balmera, and if they are strong enough, to operate a teleduv. Avenol is an  _ amvel malamya _ .”

 

“The final class,  _ amvel nayeta _ , is much rarer than the other two. In addition to the abilities of an  _ amvel malamya _ , an  _ amvel nayeta _ can manipulate the ambient quintessence around them, giving them much greater resources. They can also use it in a wider variety of ways, including shields and attacks composed of pure quintessence.”

 

“So like what Allura can do.” Alejandro frowned. “And the Druids.”

 

“Exactly. All of the Empire’s Druids are  _ amvel nayeta _ .”

 

The paladin stared at his feet as he walked, thinking hard. Something about that didn’t seem to add up quite right. “That doesn’t make sense, though. You said they were rarer than the other groups. How could there be so many in the Empire? You’d think we’d see the other classes as well, at least some  _ amvel malamya _ if nothing else since they can operate a teleduv.”

 

Malrento sighed, turning off the main hallway into a small lounge. “Let me rephrase. They were rarer on Altea. Perhaps one in fifty or one hundred thousand, I believe? I don’t know the exact numbers, and not every  _ amvel nayeta _ chose to go into the guild to be trained by the others. That, however, is in the natural gene pool. In the case of them Empire, however, they started with a gene pool consisting entirely of  _ amvel nayeta _ .”

 

“Allowing for a much higher birth rate of others, I’m guessing.” Alejandro scowled thoughtfully as he flopped onto one of the couches. “How did they manage that, though?”

 

“When Zarkon turned against Altea, it naturally caused a rift between the paladins. According to the stories, the Druids are descended from the  _ amvel nayeta _ guild members who followed their leader to Zarkon’s side.” Malrento explained, seating himself across from Alejandro and regarding him seriously.

 

The paladin blinked and sat up. Some of the Alteans had sided with Zarkon? “Their leader?”

 

“Princess Acalli. Younger sister to King Alfor, head of the  _ amvel nayeta _ guild, and the original Blue Paladin of Voltron.”

 

Alejandro felt a sharp chill in his gut. Zarkon was not the only paladin to turn on his teammates? And his predecessor, the Blue Paladin, had taken the side of the Galra Empire? “I thought blue paladins were supposed to be all about loyalty and trust because of their quintessence?”

 

The Altean shook his head sadly, holding up a hand. “As I told you when I began training the others, the aspects can take surprising forms in a person, and the personality traits are the most unpredictable of all. If I had to make a guess, I suspect her loyalty and trust centered around Zarkon himself, rather than her fellow paladins as a whole.”

 

Grimacing, Alejandro settled back down on the couch, staring up at the ceiling. “I guess that makes sense. I mean, Black’s trait is love and will, and like Hunk pointed out, you’d never guess that Zarkon had a loving bone in his body, but Coran says that the old paladins definitely used the aspects even if he hasn’t been able to find out what any of them were.” Turning his head to the side, he looked over at the old Altean. “And I’m guessing you don’t know either.”

 

“Unfortunately not.” Malrento agreed apologetically. “As I said, the skillset of an  _ amvel nayeta _ is something we have had to relearn over the generations. While we do know the characteristics of the aspects, since that knowledge has long been used in other fields and so was not lost with the destruction of Altea, we do not know what abilities they grant. There simply hasn’t been an  _ amvel nayeta _ with single-colour quintessence born into the Icebringers in the ten thousand cycles since, and an Altean must be both in order to make use of them.”

 

“Guess that makes sense.” The paladin muttered. It was frustrating, not knowing what to expect as they unlocked the aspects. Lance’s Heart aspect had especially come as a shock, since it meant a sixth aspect that had been accessed before the paladins were even aware the aspects existed. What if there were others that they’d used before without even realizing it? “Is there anything else you can tell me about them, while we’re on the subject?”

 

A helpless shrug. “Only that I believe the aspects will take the same form for your team as they did for your predecessors.” He held up a hand to forestall Alejandro’s obvious question. “No, I don’t have any real proof. As I said, the precise form of the aspects has been lost, and since those forms differ for Paladins from the form they take for  _ amvel nayeta _ , we may never have had them in the first place as they apply here. However, we do believe certain abilities of races such as the Olkari or the Balmerans are derived from the aspects due to those species’ natural affinities for certain colours of quintessence, yellow for Balmerans and green for the Olkari. As such, it would make sense for the aspects to manifest themselves in the same set of abilities for any non-paladin with the necessary abilities, and therefore in the same ways for any two paladins with the same colour of quintessence.”

 

Alejandro mulled that over, following Malrento’s train of thought. It made sense, certainly. And the aspects indicated common ways of thinking and acting between individuals with the same single-colour quintessence, so it followed that they would gain the same abilities from it. The bit about certain races having abilities derived from the aspects was unexpected. Before he could open his mouth to ask what abilities, though, the door to the lounge whirred open and Pidge burst in and pounced on him. “There you are! I need to talk to you!”

 

The older Human jumped, flailing at being grabbed unexpectedly. “ _ Ka’shohhl _ , Pidge! Don’t scare me like that!” He demanded, grabbing his chest dramatically. “Gonna give me a heart attack, you will!”

 

He received a dismissive hand wave for his efforts, making him pout. “You’re fine. I need to talk to you, though.” She fixed him with a narrow-eyed stare that was achingly familiar and made him drop all pretense of joking around. That was the look she always got when she got wind of a puzzle or challenge that she was determined to figure out come Hell, high water, or Lotor himself.

 

“Fire away, H--Pidge.” He straightened up, turning on the couch to face the green paladin properly. Not for the first time he wondered what was holding her back from unlocking the aspect of courage and curiosity. What the final trigger had been that had unlocked it for Holt. They’d never quite been able to determine in the aftermath what the key had been, only that she’d managed it at a critical moment that had saved Kurogane’s life. “What do you need?”

 

She plopped onto the couch next to him and crossed her legs, pushing her glasses up with two fingers and regarding him seriously. “Have you experienced anything...weird, since you guys came back in time? You or Kurogane?”

 

“...Weird how?”

 

“Any weird. Things that are different than they were before you came back. Things that aren’t different and should be. Literally anything that seems odd or wrong or out of place.”

 

Alejandro frowned, crossing his arms thoughtfully. Had he? The last few weeks since their arrival had been a chaotic whirlwind of activity, from their efforts to reduce the mobility of the Empire’s fleets by reducing the number of Druids they had available to watching the younger versions of themselves and their teammates begin to unlock their aspects. And in the midst of it all the two of them had been struggling to find their place in this time, where they weren’t longtime members of the pack, where the rest of the group were still young and mostly unbroken and not haunted by the memories that plagued their sleep, and where neither of them were paladins anymore, his lingering connection to Blue notwithstanding.

 

Wait. His connection to Blue.

 

“...There is one thing.” He said slowly, noting the gleam in Pidge’s eyes as she leaned closer. “Blue. When I first got here, I could sense her presence, but not actually reach her.” The former paladin did his best to keep his voice level and not betray the sharp pain of the memory. It had been as though there was a wall between them. “But by the next morning I could feel her again fully, as though I was still bonded to her. I can hear her, and she can hear me.” He frowned, concerned. “It’s not interfering with Lance’s bond, is it?”

 

There was a surprised blink, then a sharp shake of Pidge’s head, messy ginger hair flying everywhere. “No, not that I know of. I’m sure he would have said something. Can Kurogane feel Red, too?”

 

It was Alejandro’s turn to shake his head, not bothering to hide his sadness. “No. Not at all. The only good news is that he’s already used to it, since we lost Red months ago in our timeline.”

 

Pidge hummed thoughtfully staring down at the couch consideringly. “And nothing else weird that you can think of? Just that you’re still connected to Blue in this time?”

 

“Not that I’m aware of, no.”

 

There was a prolonged silence, the green paladin obviously deep in concentration while Alejandro and Malrento exchanged amused glances over her head. The Human couldn’t help but mouth the Altean word for “green” at the older man with an expressive eye roll, who chuckled and shook his head. Eventually the Altean glanced up at a timepiece on the wall and rose to his feet, touching Pidge on the shoulder to bring her out of her trance. “I believe it is time for dinner.” He informed her at her annoyed look. “Come. Your thoughts will move faster for food in your belly.”

 

________

 

Ryou was not, by nature, an aggressive person. Archaeology was not a profession that loaned itself well to short tempers or impatience, and his easy-going personality had stood him in good stead for years. But now, sitting in front of Colleen’s laptop in a ranch house in northern Arizona, he found himself for the first time drawing on Takashi’s old mantra of ‘patience yields focus’ as he watched a recording of three Garrison soldiers, including Iverson himself, all wearing quarantine suits, restraining his adopted brother to a medical table in the middle of a crashed alien spacecraft a full year after Takashi had been declared dead at the far edge of the solar system. He watched as they pointedly ignored his frantic warnings about an impending alien invasion (What the hell had  _ happened _ to him out there that he was rambling and delirious like this?) in favour of trying to sedate him, and took a deep breath through his nose as he fought back the urge to get in his truck and head back to the Garrison and take it apart brick by brick.

 

“I haven’t watched all of it.” Colleen said over his shoulder, her arms folded and her face showing a burning fury that he was completely in agreement with. “As soon as I realized it was Takashi in there, I called you in to watch with me.”

 

He gave a small nod, gaze focused on his brother’s face, now slack with unconsciousness as the sedative took effect, then drifting down his body that was so jarringly different to how he had last seen it, from the scarred face and shock of white hair to the mechanical arm that looked more advanced than anything Earth currently produced. “Isn’t that the bodysuit that was on the couch at Keith’s shack?”

 

“I think--” The Holt matriarch cut off as the camera image shook in concert with the distant sound of explosions. A moment later a lone figure burst in, taking the soldiers by surprise and toppling all three to the floor with a brutal efficiency that left Ryou with a sense of smug satisfaction given what they’d been doing moments before. Colleen sucked in a sharp breath as the newcomer tugged down the bandanna covering his face to peer down at the unconscious form on the table. “Keith!” The shock on the young man’s face was obvious, whatever he’d expected to find in that ship, Takashi wasn’t it. But he had to give him credit, he recovered quickly, cutting the restraints and slinging the older man’s arm over his shoulder.

 

“Not just him, either. Look!” Ryou’s finger traced the screen as three other figures moved into view. One moved to take Takashi’s other side and the archaeologist got a clear view of the new arrival’s face, one of the four that had been staring down at him from Colleen’s conspiracy board since the day he’d arrived at Keith’s shack. Alonza ‘Lance’ McClain-Martinez. The other two had their backs to the camera, but there was no mistaking the Holt hair on the smaller figure, meaning the last member of the group had to have been Hunk Garrett, the final missing cadet.

 

“Keith wasn’t expecting them.” Colleen observed as rapid words were exchanged, the former top student apparently not even recognizing his self-proclaimed rival. “Or Takashi.” As they watched, the group quickly left the camera’s field of view, Keith and Lance carrying the supposedly-dead pilot between them. The remainder of the footage was a silent view of the interior of the strange craft until late-arriving reinforcements turned the camera off without a word.

 

Staring at the now-black screen, Ryou’s mind reeled as he tried to process the implications of the events they had just watched. Takashi was alive. A full  _ year _ after his brother had supposedly plowed the Persephone into the surface of one of Pluto’s moons and caused the deaths of all three crew members, he had come crashing back to Earth in a ship of unmistakably alien design, visibly changed but unquestionably alive. His eyes burned and he buried his face in his hands as a choked laugh slipped past his lips. “He’s alive. Takashi’s  _ alive _ . I know you said...but I didn’t... _ How? _ ” He drew in a shaky breath, lifting his head after a moment to look up at his oddly-silent companion.

 

Colleen was still staring at the screen, expressionless. But her hand was white-knuckled and shaking where it gripped the back of his chair. “Liars.” She whispered. The older woman took a step back, hugging her arms to herself as she turned away and paced over to the conspiracy board on the far wall. A scream of frustration tore itself from her throat and she abruptly slammed her fist into the wall, denting it with the force of the blow and making Ryou jump. “ _ Fucking liars! Where are they, goddammit?! _ ”

 

Ryou stared after her for a moment before it sank in. Samuel and Matthew. If Takashi had survived whatever had caused the mission to go silent, then there was a good chance that they had as well. Colleen had spent over two years trying to come to terms with the deaths of her husband and son, he knew, had accepted the fact that the mission had vanished on the fringes of the system and there was no coming back from it even if she insisted that pilot error made no sense. And now here she was faced with the fact that one of the three lost crew was still alive, had made it home a full year later before vanishing again, and the other two were nowhere to be seen. Schrodinger’s astronauts. It had to be agony, to be given hope that they might have survived but no proof that they had or any clue as to where they were.

 

He pushed himself to his feet and quickly crossed the room to put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “We’ll find them.” He promised softly, wishing desperately there was more he could do. “We know there’s a chance now, and we’ll keep looking until we find them one way or another.” He glanced over his shoulder at the laptop and frowned. “If Takashi was still alive a year later, they definitely didn’t crash, and there’s no way the Garrison didn’t know that. So what did happen, and why did they lie?” It didn’t make any sense. What could have happened so far from Earth that the Garrison had felt the need to falsely report the deaths of the crew? What were they hiding?

 

Colleen nodded silently, re-crossing her arms as she visibly fought to get her emotions under control. “The files.” She said finally, voice cracking slightly. “There must be something in the files.” Twisting out from under his hand, she strode back across the room and dropped into the chair he’d vacated, pulling the laptop toward her. Ryou followed, leaning on the back of the chair to watch as she started pulling up the data she’d stolen from the Garrison servers and cracked the encryption on. The video footage from the night Katie and her classmates had disappeared had apparently been the first thing she’s opened, and she left it alone as she opened other windows overtop.

 

“They didn’t leave in that ship, wherever it came from. So where did they go?” She questioned aloud as she scanned the documents. “Three ATVs wrecked and several officers injured in pursuit of the subject, that’ll be Takashi, after he was  _ abducted _ , wow, Mitch, what a fucking word choice, you asshole, by four individuals, later identified as cadets Gunderson, Garrett, and McClain-Martinez and ex-cadet Kogane, on a hoverbike. Last seen on a west by southwest heading into the desert after driving off a  _ cliff _ to shake them.” She shook her head in silent admiration of the daring maneuver. “West by southwest is the approximate direction to Keith’s shack, isn’t it?”

 

“Mhm. They must have gone to ground there, which is why the bodysuit, hoverbike, and pin were there.” Ryou couldn’t help but admire the way Colleen had redirected her anguish into determination and drive so quickly. But then, that was how she’d kept moving forward over the last two years, especially after Katie vanished, by subsuming her grief into fury. “The real question is, where did they go after that?”

 

The older woman hummed, scanning over files and discarding them. A transmission from the Luna domes about the descending ship that had obviously contained Takashi. The incident report for Keith beating up Iverson and his helpers. A message from Mars base that the alien vessel appeared to be leaving the system at speed since shortly after the blue lion vessel vanished into the unidentified energy source.

 

“...Hang on, what was that last one?” He couldn’t possibly have read all that right.

 

Colleen obviously felt the same way, having stopped midway through switching to the next file. “‘Approximately 2.5 hours after the blue lion vessel vanished from our sensors, the hostile alien vessel was observed altering course. New trajectory is directly away from Sol on the ecliptic. It seems to be leaving the system, thank god.’ Blue lion? Hostile aliens?  _ What? _ ”

 

Ryou turned and stared at the conspiracy board, a thought niggling at the back of his mind just out of reach. Dozens of photos and notes stared back at him tauntingly. “Blue lion…” Dark eyes landed on the pictures of the blue lion carved into the caves near the Garrison, with the star patterns hanging overhead. He traced the black thread connecting the star chart to the post-it with the translated date, which had red thread connecting it to the pictures of Katie, Hunk, Lance, and Keith. Frowning, he picked up the spool on the table and pinned another strand to the date, running it across the board to the picture of his brother to represent his brief reappearance that night and securing the other end. Stepping back, he reached for the stack of post-its and froze. His gaze locked onto the date with five threads leading away toward pictures of missing people.

 

Five threads. Five people. The date.

 

“Colleen.”

 

She didn’t look up, fingers dancing over the keyboard as she sifted through the other files. “Just a minute...there’s an observation log here, tracking the hostile vessel--how do they know that’s what it is?--dammit, if only I’d grabbed more than 4 days of material--”

 

“Colleen! Now, please!” He snapped, eyes still locked on the board.

 

“Dammit,  _ what?! _ ” Colleen huffed, eyes flashing as she turned in her chair to see what he was looking at.

 

Without a word, Ryou gestured to the conspiracy board. He ran his fingers along the thread connecting Katie to the date. “One.” Then Lance. “Two.” Hunk. “Three.” Keith. “Four.” Takashi. “Five.” Then he grabbed the photo of the sixth drawing from the series they’d found in the lower cave and passed it to her, the one with the same stars and the five figures approaching the blue lion. “Five.”

 

For a moment she floundered, staring speechlessly at him. Her gaze flickered rapidly between the picture in her hands and the red threads on the conspiracy board. Then her head snapped around to the file she’d just opened, bold black words spread across the screen.

 

_ Incident Record: _

_ What appeared to be a mechanical craft in the shape of a blue lion (Possible connection to Site AG-2053-59) was sighted several miles West of the Arizona Garrison mid-afternoon. The vessel maneuvered through the air for a few minutes, observed by Commander Mitch Iverson and Corporal Evan Wilcox. Before footage could be taken the craft launched out of atmosphere at speeds greatly exceeding all known Human technology. Later analysis of radar scans from Luna and Mars bases tracked the vehicle to the edge of the system near Pluto under in-system FTL. The Theseus and Pirithous satellites over Kerberos captured imagery of the vessel entering what appears to be a ‘portal’ composed of an unknown form of energy undetectable to our scans, which vanished moments afterward. _

 

_ Attached:  _

_ Theseus-2067-11-29-1152366 through 1152389 _

_ Pirithous-2067-11-29-1153612 through 1153682 _

 

_ Additional note: _

_ While passing the orbit of Uranus the ‘blue lion’ passed within a few miles of an inbound K-vessel (See: Tracking record M146-2067-11-K-beta). K-Vessel attempted pursuit before the smaller vessel vanished. Mars station has since reported the K-vessel continuing on a course out of the system (See: Transcript M146-AG-2067-11-K-beta). _

 

The first of the attached images sat below the text, showing a clear profile of a robotic blue lion, lit from in front by the glowing blue light of a portal exactly like the ones depicted in the cave drawings. Ryou could make out the familiar surface of Pluto in one corner of the image, slightly blurred as the satellite’s camera tracked the ship. Immediately he turned back to the board, to the seventh cave drawing in line beside the gap where he’d pulled down the sixth. The carving might as well have been a caricature of the photo on the computer screen.

 

“Space.” He whispered as the world seemed to tilt on its axis. “They went to space, in the blue lion they found in the cave.” He let out a hoarse laugh, his eyes flicking wildly between the computer and the board as he slumped into the spare chair. “No wonder I couldn’t find anything that the blue lion image was supposed to represent. It was  _ literally _ a blue lion.” He laughed again, tinged with hysteria, and dragged his hands down his face. It was too much. Weeks of sleepless nights and now in the span of less than ten minutes a mere archaeological mystery had suddenly upgraded itself to something with the potential to make every historian on the planet scream bloody murder and every ‘aliens built the pyramids’ whack-job cry vindication. “A giant robot lion that’s been hiding under a mountain for ten thousand years. No wonder I couldn’t make sense of the writing, it’s not even from Earth! Not to mention the chemical composition of the dyes!  _ Aliens! _ FTL, a spaceship shaped like a lion, unknown energies, ten thousand year old carvings...I can’t think of anything else that makes sense, can you? Colleen?”

 

Colleen was frozen, staring at the screen. “Aliens.” She breathed. “Goddamn motherfucking  _ aliens _ .” She had a wild look in her eye like she was looking at something he couldn’t see, the famous Holt family intellect slotting pieces together more rapidly than Ryou’s ever could. “That’s it. That’s the missing piece.”

 

Before he could even open his mouth, she threw herself at the wall beside the board and swept it clear, knocking photo frames to the floor with a clatter. She didn’t even bother with the post-its, simply grabbing a marker and writing directly onto the paint, ‘aliens’ in jagged black scrawl. “What happened to the Kerberos mission that would cause it to lose contact and the crew to disappear without them dying?” The names Sam, Matt, and Takashi hit the wall, a line labelled ‘abducted’ connecting them to the central point. “The Garrison covered it up, probably to prevent mass panic. They covered up Takashi’s return, same reason. Can’t blow their cover.” Katie, Lance, Hunk, and Keith’s names joined the writing on the wall, a line saying ‘rescued from Gar’ connecting them to Takashi, with a connecting line dragging off toward ‘Blue Lion’. “Do they know that’s where they went?” Colleen didn’t wait for an answer, adding an arrow toward the word ‘space’ beside the ‘blue lion’ before drawing another line to connect ‘blue lion’ to the original ‘aliens’. 

 

Capping the marker, she stepped back to stare at her handiwork as Ryou joined her.

 

“Aliens are real, and they’ve been here. They hid the blue lion ship ten thousand years ago and made the carvings in the cave. Two years ago aliens abducted the Kerberos crew, and the Garrison covered it up with a story about pilot error. One year ago Takashi somehow makes it back to Earth. The Garrison tries to make him disappear--they must have been on alert all night, if they translated those star patterns they knew  _ something _ was going to happen--but before they could Keith, Lance, Katie, and Hunk rescued him. They went to Keith’s shack, and then to the blue lion’s cave. They took the blue lion and went into space, all five of them. And that’s where they are now.”

 

It made sense. The pieces all fit together. Ryou stared at the marked-up walls, the pictures of alien script and alien ships. He remembered the scar on his brother’s face and the strange mechanical arm, his frantic warnings that the Garrison’s soldiers had firmly ignored. Somewhere out there, he’d suffered, and now he was back within reach of the beings that had done that to him. So was Keith, the boy Takashi had all but adopted as a little brother, and Katie, Colleen’s teenage daughter, as well as Sam, and Matt, and Lance, and Hunk. Seven Humans, four of them still children and two others barely adults themselves, amongst who-knew-how-many alien races that had every chance of wanting to hurt them.

 

He looked back over his shoulder at the frozen image of the blue lion hurtling toward a glowing portal on the edge of the Sol system, a thrill of terror coursing through him. “So what do we do now?”

 

__________

 

“You wished to see me, my Prince?”

 

Lotor looked up from his data tablet and gave a pleased smiled at the sight of the head Druid. “Ah, Haggar. Yes.” Straightening in his throne, he set the tablet aside. “I wished to discuss that little problem you informed me of a few rotations ago, the one regarding the paladins of Voltron.”

 

Haggar nodded, eyeing him expectantly.

 

“How soon can Project Scaultrite be deployed for testing?”

 

He tried not to laugh at the startled expression on her face. It was so rare that anyone managed to take her by surprise these days, and he couldn’t help but savour it. Once he had his amusement under control, and the witch had regained her composure, he spoke again. “Well?”

 

She frowned, obviously thinking over the state of the project. “At current rate of construction since we accelerated it, the prototype could be deployed within the period. If we accelerate the project further, perhaps as little as a deca-rotation, but transferring the necessary manpower to the project will make it extremely difficult to continue to keep it secret from our enemies.”

 

“Ah, yes, those pesky little spies.” Lotor hummed thoughtfully. The one that Haggar had ferreted out had proven most useful given the right motivation. While she was undoubtedly giving up the names of her comrades and locations of bases in order from least critically placed to most, it was already enough to give them some idea of the spread of the infiltration and inhibit their access to useful information. “...Accelerate the project anyway, and keep a close watch on Lieutenant Kovirak. The fact that there’s been no action taken against Project Scaultrite so far suggests to me that she was the only one in a position to report anything useful about it anyway, and a deca-rotation isn’t enough time for them to get people into place before we deploy it.”

 

Haggar smiled approvingly and nodded. “And I assume you have a target in mind for the field testing of the weapon?”

 

His own smile was razor sharp, his heart buzzing with anticipation as he briefly glanced over at the files on the screen of his tablet. Grainy security camera images of the Paladins of Voltron stared back at him. “Absolutely.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You remember back in S1E1 where you see Iverson and some guy with binoculars watching Blue doing figure 8's over the desert?  
> Mitch: What the hell is that.  
> Other soldier: It, uh, appears to be a blue lion, sir.  
> That right there was the Garrison's equivalent of Ryou's 'Oh. It was literally a blue lion.' realization.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No warnings for this chapter.
> 
> Guys, I am so sorry this chapter took so long. Chapter 26 made me feel like I was going three rounds with a woodchipper for every sentence I managed to put down, I think I wrote and deleted a solid 2500 words before I got something I could actually work with, and the current version was written pretty much just in the last two days.
> 
> I'm really hoping the next few chapters will be more cooperative, because from the second half of this chapter through to nearly the end of chapter 26 takes place within the same day. Buckle up kiddos. The beginning of this chapter is the closest thing to happy you'll be seeing for quite a while.

Shiro groaned as he flopped down onto a pile of pillows in the observation lounge, his joints cracking softly as he stretched. “Once, just once, it would be nice if a mission went according to plan.”

 

“Didn’t you know, Shiro? That one mission last week was our non-fucked-up mission quota for the period.” Kurogane shot back, prompting a chorus of laughter from the rest of the team as they settled in for the evening, sprawling across cushions or curling up in blankets according to their preferences. Even the laughter carried a slight weariness to it, however. The day’s mission had been exhausting for all involved. Their target had been another border fleet, slightly larger than the ones they’d fought before. Unfortunately, this one had apparently recently stumbled across a world whose inhabitants had abilities of potential interest to the Empire, and not only had the battlecruiser been carrying far more prisoners than the resistance had expected, but there were also two additional Druids to be dealt with on top of the one that the vessel normally carried. The resultant fight had been long and brutal, requiring all five paladins, Alejandro, Kurogane, and Allura, the latter three of whom had arrived with Icebringer reinforcements to help keep the soldiers off their backs and evacuate the prisoners.

 

The black paladin grimaced, chuckling tiredly. “It sure seems that way sometimes, I have to admit.” He lifted his head as Matt approached, the younger male settling down beside him with two mugs of what had been dubbed ‘space hot cocoa’, another product of Hunk’s endless efforts to give the team a taste of home when home was so far away. “And you, what were you doing going in on that ship? It was an active combat zone!” He’d nearly had a heart attack when they finally finished off the last Druid and went to help with the prisoners, only to see his boyfriend working on one of the badly abused prisoners in the cells. There hadn’t been time to confront him about it earlier, not with the battle raging both inside the ship and out.

 

“My job.” Matt stated blandly, calmly disregarding the paladin’s dismay as he took a sip from his mug, winced at the heat, and set the other down in front of Shiro. “Quite a few prisoners needed to be stabilized before they could be moved, they needed as many medics as they could to go over and help.”

 

“But your leg--”

 

“I wasn’t walking on it, ‘kashi, relax. I’m partnered with Hwrek’shaa’kel for ground missions for exactly that reason.”

 

“You’ve done this before?” Shiro couldn’t quite keep the note of dismay out of his voice at the thought of Matt going into the middle of a battlefield, even partnered with a H’ress for mobility and protection.

 

Matt chuckled, rubbing Shiro’s shoulder calmingly and setting aside his mug. “Yes, lots of times. I know what I’m doing. Now lay flat, you look like you could use a massage after all that fighting.”

 

Abused muscles protesting the change in position, the black paladin obediently stretched himself out on the soft carpet, folding his arms under his chin as Matt straddled his hips and dug gentle thumbs into his shoulder blades. “I just worry.” He said softly, grunting as the other prodded a particularly sore spot. “I don’t know what I would do if anything happened to you now that I’ve found you again. I just want you safe.”

 

The younger man’s hands stilled for a moment before resuming their steady smoothing of the knots in his muscles. “I know. But we’re fighting a war, Takashi. There’s no such thing as safe out here.” His voice was quiet and regretful. “I want you to be safe too. But until this war is over, that just isn’t going to happen for any of us no matter how much we want it.” He dug his knuckles in on either side of Shiro’s spine, prompting a groan. “I promise, though, that I’m being careful. I’m not the same person I was that day in the arena. I know how to protect myself now.”

 

Neither of them were the same as they had been two years ago. Shiro knew that. You couldn’t go through the things they had and come out unchanged. Matt may have been spared the arena, but he’d suffered all the same, been cruelly maimed and forced to watch his father murdered in cold blood, been isolated and unable to communicate, and eventually ended up on another front line of this ancient war. He carried most of his scars on the inside, but that didn’t mean they weren’t there.

 

“Alright. I trust you.” Shiro said softly. He let his eyes slip half-closed, enjoying the magic Matt’s fingers were working across the tense muscles. Most of the rest of the team seemed to have decided Matt’s idea was a good one, and had paired up to work the aches of battle out of each other’s bodies and patch up the thankfully minor injuries left from the fight. He could see Kurogane working his hands over Alejandro’s shoulders, and a blushing Lance doing the same for a red-faced Keith. Shiro chuckled and shook his head. Those two were absolutely hopeless.

 

Out of the corner of his eye he could see Pidge smearing some kind of ointment on Allura’s arms while Hunk hovered close by with bandages. The Altean Princess had taken the brunt of a thankfully-weak lightning blast from one of the Druids towards the end of the fight, and the three were engaged in quiet conversation, battle tactics from the sound of it. The sight of the youngest paladin reminded him. “Did you ever figure out what Pidge was being so huffy about last night?”

 

“Sort of? Something about time-travelling weirdness that should be going both ways and wasn’t. Apparently Alejandro can feel Blue but Kurogane can’t feel Red?” Strong hands kneaded Shiro’s back and he let out a soft moan as he melted under his boyfriend’s hands. “There was something about Lance and nightmares in there too, but I didn’t quite follow. It’s been a long time since I had to keep up with a Katie-rant and I’m really out of practice.”

 

Shiro hummed thoughtfully. “Well, if anyone can figure out whatever’s bugging her, she can.” He shifted, popping a few joints in his spine, and grunted. “You better stop, Matt, or I’m going to fall asleep on you.”

 

Matt laughed but did as he was told, sliding off the paladin’s back to sit beside him.”Is that a bad thing?” He grabbed his mug, tasting it cautiously for temperature, then took a longer drink with a satisfied sigh.

 

“It is when I haven’t had a chance to return the favour.” He levered himself upright and moved to sit behind his boyfriend, who straightened obligingly before arching with a pleased sound as Shiro pressed careful fingers into his shoulders.

 

“Any problems with your new prosthetic?” Matt asked as he crossed his legs in front of himself, shifting this way and that to guide the other’s hands to the sorest spots. “You don’t seem to be having any issues with fine motor control.”

 

Shiro shook his head, glancing down at the smooth blue-white metal of the limb as it moved smoothly alongside his natural one. “No. It’s fantastic. No discomfort, and if anything I think it’s even more responsive than the old one.” To demonstrate, he dug the knuckles of the artificial hand into Matt’s shoulder blades, an area he knew from years of experience tended to knot up when the younger man had been working hard. He was rewarded with a soft groan of delight as the ginger nearly melted under his touch and grinned. “See? Works perfectly.”

 

He quickly settled into a rhythm, working his way slowly down the length of Matt’s back. Despite the fact that Shiro was the one who had been fighting today, it was the other man’s muscles that carried more accumulated tension since the black paladin had at least had other Humans around him for the last year and Lance had a sharp eye for whenever his teammates were in need of a massage, and he was determined to remedy that neglect now that he had the chance. Slowly smoothing away the knots, he worked his way back up to the base of the neck, pleased to feel Matt slowly going boneless and relaxed under the attention.

 

As he pushed the messy ginger hair out of the way for better access to the neck muscles, however, he was startled by vibrant orange-yellow colouration on the skin underneath. There was no difference to the texture of the skin as he ran his fingers over it, but the colour remained. “Matt? What’s this on the back of your neck?” He asked uncertainly.

 

“Hm?” Matt blinked sleepily, having seemingly fallen into a slight doze in his relaxed state. “My neck?” He reached back to where Shiro’s fingers still rested on the strip of yellow between the base of his hair and the collar of his shirt. “Oh.” He laughed. “Right, I didn’t show you that, did I?”

 

“Show him what?” Allura asked curiously from the other side of the room, immediately catching the attention of the rest of the group. Her sharp hearing had apparently picked up their conversation despite the low tones of voice they’d been using. Matt flushed under the curious gazes, rubbing at the back of his neck.

 

“My  _ H’ress’kaayan _ . I never showed it to you guys.” He explained awkwardly, suddenly shy under so many eyes.

 

Alejandro stiffened and Kurogane’s eyes went wide. “I’m sorry, did you say you have a  _ H’ress’kaayan _ ?” The former blue paladin asked slowly. Shiro could see the other paladins exchanging confused looks and a couple of shrugs. Allura, however, seemed as startled as the two time travellers and Coran had a frankly impressed expression on his face as he twisted his moustache between his fingers, looking at Matt intently.

 

Matt nodded, a small smile on his face. “Yeah. And yes, I understand what it means, even if I was still working on my language skills when they gave it to me.” He reassured the pair.

 

“Great, now how about you fill in the rest of us?” Pidge complained loudly. The others nodded in agreement, and Shiro felt a surge of curiosity as well. He and Matt had slowly been learning bits and pieces of each other’s years apart, but with everything going on there was only so much time to talk in a day and there was still many gaps to be filled in the two years that had brought Matt to where and who he was now.

 

It was Allura who spoke up to explain, brows furrowed in the frown of concentration of someone trying to remember something learned years earlier. “The closest literal translation would be ‘Hunter’s honour.’ A  _ H’ress’kaayan _ is a ritual tattoo, a symbol of immense honour among the H’ress people, awarded to those of the pack who live up to their highest moral ideals.”

 

“Specifically,  _ H’ressyan kaa, H’ress sh’ra _ .” Alejandro put in, blue eyes fixed on Matt as he spoke. “‘Pack first, Hunter second.’ It’s exactly what it sounds like. Placing the needs and wellbeing of your pack above your own. The  _ H’ress’kaayan _ is only given for major feats of valour, though. What exactly did you do to earn one, Matt?” He tilted his head to the side curiously.

 

Matt huffed out a sigh. “I still think they made too big a deal out of the whole thing, giving me that. I was just doing what made sense and needed to be done.”

 

Hunk narrowed his eyes. “Come on, just tell us, man. If the Icebringers thought it was a big deal, then maybe it was.”

 

Throwing up his hands, the medic let out an exasperated noise. “Fine, fine! I led the rearguard effort during the evacuation of the Boiling Rock, okay? That’s all!”

 

“That was you?!” Kurogane burst out, startling everyone. “The Icebringers have been using your strategy for the evacuation of boarded ships ever since! It saved, or at least extended, hundreds of thousands of lives over the course of the war! Holt and I rearguarded the Heavy Storm’s evacuation using that strategy, it was brilliant!” Looking around at the baffled expressions on the faces of the others, he elaborated. “The strategy involves venting sections of the boarded ship to vacuum, creating a bottleneck as the boarders advance through the ship. We were told that when it was first used on the Boiling Rock, the Hunter who came up with the strategy, who was apparently Matt, led a dozen other Hunters in holding the bottleneck against the advancing soldiers while the rest of the ship was evacuated behind them via wormhole. It cut the death toll by more than two-thirds.”

 

“Like I said, I was just doing what needed doing.” Matt insisted quietly as Shiro regarded his boyfriend in shock. “The Icebringers rescued me, took me in, and made me part of their family even before I knew how to say more than a handful of words they could understand. They were in trouble, and I could help.” Matt’s calm expression as he talked about holding off an army with a handful of other fighters clashed in his mind with the terrified face that had been the last thing he saw of the other in the arena two years earlier, the difference almost overwhelming in its drasticness. What he couldn’t do for himself back then, he’d been able to do for those he cared about since, forged himself into a warrior in an instant to protect the new family he’d found.

 

“Regardless, from the sound of it, you have more than earned your  _ H’ress’kaayan _ .” Allura stated firmly. “It certainly explains why the others were so quick to listen to you at the strategy session when you suggested focusing our efforts on eliminating the Druids. Not only had you already proved yourself a capable strategist, but you were also someone who had proven their devotion to the ideals of the pack and earned their respect.”

 

Hunk tilted his head thoughtfully. “You said it was a ritual tattoo. Is that why Shiiar’keh has those colourful dyed patches of fur on their back?”

 

Alejandro nodded. “Yes, that’s what a  _ H’ress’kaayan _ looks like on a H’ress. Tattoos dye their fur for some reason. When you meet other Icebringer ships you’ll find that the pack leaders almost always have them, since the kind of beings who earn them usually also exhibit behaviours that make the rest of the pack look to them as leaders. On other species, though, it’s usually a tattoo just like on Humans.”

 

“...Matt has a tattoo.” The green paladin looked baffled by this revelation, staring at her brother with wide eyes. “An alien ritual tattoo of badassness, but still. My dorky nerd brother has a  _ tattoo _ .” Shiro snorted in spite of himself as he glanced over at Matt. Pidge made a very good point, the ginger was one of the last people he would have ever expected to do something like that. The snort turned into a burst of laughter at the teen’s next comment. “Mom is going to  _ kill you _ .”

 

Matt snorted himself, shaking his head. “Would it help if I said that the tattoo design is nerdy as hell? No skulls or blood or anything like that.  _ H’ress’kaayan _ are supposed to be something that is meaningful to the person wearing them, and mine is exactly that.”

 

“I dunno if I believe you.” Pidge fired back, propping her chin in her hand. “I think you better show us so I can make sure you’re not an evil clone masquerading as my brother after all.”

 

“Fine, fine. I figured you’d want to see it as soon as this conversation started anyway.” The older Holt sibling huffed, pushing himself to his feet. He tugged off his shirt, and Shiro had a moment to be relieved that aside from a few rows of small claw punctures in his upper arms Matt didn’t seem to have any obvious scars on his upper body before the younger man turned around and the black paladin’s breath caught in his throat. He was distantly aware of the sharp inhalations and startled exclamations from the others, but all his attention was locked on the intricate tattoo on his boyfriend’s back.

 

The yellow he had seen was part of a golden sun that peeked out from under his hair, yellow-white corona flaring outwards across Matt’s shoulders and down over the bump at the base of his neck. The detail was incredible, right down to a scattering of sunspots over the surface.

 

Below that, running the length of Matt’s spine, were the planets. Tiny Mercury, golden Venus, the familiar blue-brown-green marble of Earth, complete with clouds, and the rusty red of Mars. The large banded globe of Jupiter with its red spot, and pale Saturn with its extensive rings. The more simply banded blue spheres of Uranus and Neptune. And small rocky Pluto with her icy heart-shaped plain. All nine planets were rendered so faithfully they might as well have been pulled directly from any science poster at the Garrison, and Shiro couldn’t begin to imagine how long they must have taken to do.

 

It wasn’t just the planets, either. A wide band of tiny asteroids wove across the shoulder blades between Mars and Jupiter, and a dusting of comets, half-hidden by the waist of his pants, sat below Pluto with their tails fanning away from the sun. And every planet was accompanied by its moons, fanning out on either side in graceful layered curves. Earth’s Luna and Mars’s Phobos and Deimos. Shiro could easily identify the larger globes of Io, Europa, Ganymede, and Callisto among Jupiter’s sixty-nine attendants, and massive Titan among Saturn’s sixty-two. Uranus was flanked by her twenty-seven small moons, and Neptune’s Triton stood out amongst her fourteen. And Pluto was encircled by her five moons, enormous Charon and the much smaller Nyx, Hydra, Kerberos, and Styx, all so accurately detailed he could almost imagine he could look closely and see the Persephone perched on tiny Kerberos’s icy curve.

 

The entirety of the Sol system was painted permanently into Matt’s skin, with Earth nestled high between his shoulder blades, directly over his heart.

 

_ Maybe I would never see home again--Earth wasn’t in the Icebringer charts, so they couldn’t take me home even though they wanted to. _ Matt’s words from the night they talked about the past and the present and their feelings for each other came unbidden back into Shiro’s mind. At the time the tattoo had been done, Matt had believed he would likely never see Earth again. All he had left of his home was his memories. And when he had had to choose something meaningful to him to ink onto his body in honour of his actions, he had chosen something he didn’t want to ever forget.

 

Shiro was on his feet before he’d even realized he’d moved, pulling the man he loved into his arms and holding him tightly. “You’ll see Earth again, Matt.” He promised fervently. “I swear I’ll make sure of it. Once this war is over, we’ll all see it again together.”

 

“I hope you’re right, Takashi.” Matt whispered into his collarbone, so softly he almost couldn’t hear it. “I really, really do.”

 

__________

 

_ Everything is chaos around him, a twisting whirlwind of dark metal and brighter lasers and the on-and-off flashes of stars between the Empire fighters. Red is diving, striking, roaring fury to the distant nebulas, but for every ship that flashes to flame under her claws there are more, always more, a thousand for every kill. _

 

_ He fights, because that’s all he can do. Fights for his life, fights for Alejandro’s life, fights for the lives of those on the Long Wind, Roaring Mountain, and Cracking Glacier that are all the family he has now. _

 

_ Light blazes brilliant purple through the darkness, the too-familiar glare of an ion cannon. Fighters part from its path, and for a moment, he can see all too clearly. The Cracking Glacier hangs in space, lights dead and guns silent and he can see the white mist of atmosphere dissipating into vacuum around the rents in her star-spotted hull. Further away, the Roaring Mountain has been torn nearly in two, the edges of the fatal blow still glowing red from the heat of the cannon blast that ripped its deadly path through the ship. He can’t see the Long Wind at all. _

 

_ Where is Blue? Where is Alejandro? He can’t see them anywhere no matter what direction Red turns. Fear stabs through him, like knives tearing at his insides, terror twisting him into knots. Please no, he can’t lose Alejandro too, he’s all he has left. You’ve won, he screams fruitlessly to the Empire ships, please, please just leave us alone, it’s over, we give up, please just don’t take him from me, just  _ stop--

 

_ Red. _

 

_ Everything is red, a haze of heat sensed rather than felt that seems to cover the universe. The Red Lion is screaming, a desperate cry of anger/determination/pain/fear as red surges outwards and wrongness crackles over the broken ends where her bonds to Black and Green and Yellow are supposed to be, but it’s too late, they can’t stop what they’ve started, he feels a last brush over his mind of sorrow and love-- _

 

_ The world outside turns from purple darkness to searing white, like the flash of nuclear bombs in those old videos from history class, then everything goes still. _

 

The piercing shriek of an alarm overhead had Kurogane on his feet and his bayard in hand in an instant. He could feel Alejandro’s back pressed against his, the heaving of his own chest, the unstable surface of pillows and blankets underfoot, see other figures scrambling to their feet in the dim light of the stars through the observation lounge’s wide glass wall. He raised his sword in automatic defense before he fully registered the faces around him, put them together with his surroundings and remembered where he was.

 

The Castle of Lions. The lounge. This timeline’s versions of his team around him, not enemies. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, lowering his bayard as he felt the familiar touch of Alejandro’s hand against his shoulder in unspoken reassurance, and tried to shake off the old memory.

 

Kurogane opened his eyes again and allowed Alejandro to tug him toward the door in the wake of the other paladins, the alarm still wailing around them. There was no frantic rush to grab their armor and bayards, so they weren’t under attack, nor was it the familiar proximity alarm that would warn them of an approaching hazard. It took him several seconds to sort through his memory and identify the siren as the one Allura used for emergency meetings, whenever they received critical intelligence that she didn’t feel should wait until morning.

 

The clock of war and death hanging over all their heads seemed to tick louder in time with the klaxon. Could the others hear it too? Or was he the only one who could feel it counting down to defeat?

 

They emerged onto the bridge and stopped short behind the rest of the group. Allura and Coran were standing by the main communications console, conversing in low tones with unmistakably grim expressions on their faces. The main screen showed a frozen recording, Kolivan’s face staring out at them with an even deeper frown than the old Galra usually wore. Alejandro grimaced as he studied the scene, rising up on tiptoe to peer over Shiro’s shoulder. “This can’t be good.” He muttered quietly. Kurogane nodded his agreement with that assessment as Allura waved the team closer. They fell into line between Keith and Shiro in a loose semicircle around the two Alteans at the console.

 

Allura gestured to the screen behind her, expression troubled in a way that only deepened the feeling of dread in the pit of Kurogane’s stomach. “As you can see, we’ve received a recorded message from the Blade of Marmora. I apologize for disturbing your rest, paladins, but given what Kolivan had to say I thought it best to share this information with you as soon as possible so we can begin to make plans. Time is of the essence.” The clock seemed to tick louder in the former red paladin’s head as the Altean Princess touched a button on the console and the screen flickered to play the message over again from the beginning.

 

“ _ Greetings, Paladins. _ ” The head Blade’s voice was a low growl, steady as always, but Kurogane thought he heard a note of exhaustion in it. “ _ I have news. I wish I could say it was good. _ ”

 

“ _ Since we last spoke, _ ” Kolivan continued, “ _ the Empire has been very active, with many changes taking place under Lotor’s command. He appears to have diverted his attention away from his efforts to consolidate control. Likely he is relying on the loyalty of the stronger commanders to keep their weaker counterparts in line. _ ”

 

“ _ At his direction there has also been widespread reshuffling of skilled personnel and general manpower, with many of his father’s projects being downsized or abandoned altogether. Until now, I was unable to determine exactly where those resources were being diverted to, since Lotor has many projects of his own. _ ” Galran faces did not show stress in the same ways Human ones did, with bags under the eyes and lines of exhaustion. To the former red paladin, though, the signs were obvious in patches of matted fur and twitching ears that spoke of too long in front of the console correlating reports and piecing together a hundred sources of patchwork information. “ _ I now have reason to believe the world-breaker weapon of which you spoke is already under construction. _ ”

 

The chorus of horrified exclamations from the cluster of Humans nearly drowned out Kolivan’s next words. “ _ In the last two rotations there has been a sudden further increase in the absorption of specific resources by an unknown project. They had been taking pains to disguise where the manpower and materials were being sent--I believe the spy in our ranks has already compromised many of my undercover operatives, allowing Lotor and Haggar to control what they see. False courses, multiple destinations, all designed to prevent us from knowing exactly where things are going. But the reassignment of the best engineers in the Empire, and the seeming disappearance of huge quantities of slave labour, ship metal, and especially almathium, when there has been only minor increases in activity at the shipyards, all point to one thing and one thing only. _ ”

 

The old Galra sighed, leaning his hands on the console in front of him as his head hung low. “ _ I wish I had more information for you. But the Blade who should have been able to provide more insight than any other into the machinations of the current leadership, Lieutenant Kovirak, currently resides at the top of the list of those who I suspect in the role of traitor, and has yet to tell me anything the others have not. _ ”

 

“ _ The weapon is being built, and at speed judging by the increase in diverted materiel. I do not know where, or how soon it will be complete. _ ” He huffed out a low breath, and a small square opened in the lower right corner of the image, an attached data file making its presence known. “ _ But I do know where you can find out. The file I have sent with this message contains everything we know about the Trepan Kev administrative complex. Trepan Kev is a heavily-fortified facility that serves as a back-up for the Empire’s administrative data in the event of a major systems failure at Central Command or one of the other major bases. When the Green Paladin devastated their computers during the battle with Zarkon, the database was restored from the computers at Trepan Kev. It should contain the genuine disposition of materials and personnel within the Empire’s territory. _ ”

 

“ _ Gaining access will not be easy--my Blades have been trying and failing for centacycles, both covertly and overtly. It is heavily defended and the digital security is some of the best in the Empire. But I believe it is your best chance at locating and stopping the weapon before it can be deployed. Start by tracing the almathium shipments. Of the quantities mined in the last few decarotations, only a fraction has gone into the ion cannons of new cruisers and dreadnoughts while the rest has disappeared where my Blades cannot find it. _ ”

 

Kolivan straightened, his expression grim. “ _ Good luck, Paladins. May Marmora guide your search _ .” The image froze as the recording ended, the file opening automatically and the data within scrolling across the screen.

 

A stunned silence followed the end of the playback for several seconds before Lance, hands clenched into shaking fists at his sides, abruptly whirled on Alejandro. “I thought you said we had longer before they built the Weblum’s Breath?!” He demanded, a frantic light in his eyes.

 

Alejandro took a step back and held up his hands defensively. He looked every bit as shaken as his younger counterpart, tanned skin ashen. “We should have! They weren’t supposed to deploy the prototype for another year!” The former blue paladin drew in a shaky breath, running a hand through his hair as he began to pace, taking a few steps at a time this way and that. “This isn’t how it was supposed to play out, Lotor was supposed to finish consolidating control and start sending the fleets after us long before the Weblum’s Breath came into play!” Kurogane tried to put a calming hand on his partner’s shoulder in an effort to forestall the panic attack he could see building, but the other shrugged it off and continued his agitated movements. “I don’t understand, why did it change?”

 

“Chaos!” Pidge cut in furiously. “Blue’s aspect was chaos, it’s the butterfly effect. Reality is a chaotic system and a highly sensitive one at that, you’ve been introducing changes from the moment you arrived, of  _ course _ things aren’t playing out the same way, we’re not doing what we did before, the Icebringers aren’t doing what they did before, the Blade aren’t doing what they did before, you’ve changed the actions of hundreds of thousands of people  _ directly _ let alone the indirect!” Her words were delivered rapidly as she pushed her glasses up on her face with a deep scowl. “You didn’t seriously expect everything to play out the same, did you, that’s not how time travel  _ works _ when you have an alterable future, we’re not going to be able to predict  _ anything _ beyond the likely targets based on what you went through!”

 

Lance threw up his hands, rocking on his heels on the spot. “Obviously that’s exactly what they expected, and now--”

 

“Alright, that’s enough!” Shiro’s voice cut across Lance’s, the unmistakable command in his tone silencing them and making Pidge and Lance reflexively snap to attention. He quickly stepped into the middle of the three, hands up in a peacemaking gesture. “All of you, take a deep breath. Hunk, Keith, Kurogane, you too.” He ordered firmly, and suited actions to words by inhaling deeply and holding for a moment before letting it out slowly.

 

Kurogane followed the black paladin’s order automatically, sucking in a slow breath. Only then did he become aware of the ringing in his ears and his own racing heartbeat. As he started to calm under the head of Voltron’s gentle coaching he realized that the shock of the terrifying news had brought most of the team to the verge of their own anxious meltdowns. Besides Lance and Alejandro’s jitteriness and Pidge’s wild ranting, Keith had curled in on himself in a visibly defensive posture, likely in response to the yelling, and Hunk looked as though he was going to be sick. Even Matt was pale as he rubbed the Yellow Paladin’s back soothingly.

 

Shiro surveyed his team and sighed. “There we go. Now, yelling at each other is not going to help anything. Yes, we should have realized that we’d changed the course of events outside of our direct actions,” Pidge snorted and crossed her arms, “ _ but _ , I do think this is a more dramatic change than we might have reasonably expected. Not to mention  _ none _ of us thought of it.” The subtle reprimand, aimed directly at her, quickly settled the green paladin.

 

“What we need to focus on,” Shiro continued firmly as he looked around at all of them, “is what we do  _ now _ . Kolivan’s information gives us a good place to start. Matt, Pidge, I want you to start looking it over immediately. Figure out what defenses we’re dealing with and what sort of resources we’re going to need for an attack on it to get the information we need.” The two Holts nodded firmly, heading over to Pidge’s station to call up the file, the elder dropping into the seat while his sister draped herself over the back of the chair to look over his shoulder. “Kurogane, contact the Long Wind. Update them on the situation and tell them we need to call an emergency strategic session as soon as possible.”

 

Kurogane gave a single sharp nod as he headed for the communications console, dismissing the image of Kolivan’s grim countenance and tuning out the sound of Shiro assigning tasks to the rest of the team--rest was out of the question right now, with this hanging over their heads, and having something to do would keep them focused and their fear under control. 

 

Pidge was wrong, he knew, once they’d realized they’d travelled through time it hadn’t taken them long to realize that they could make changes with impunity and that those changes would beget other, unanticipated changes. They recognized the significance of the word chaos too, after all. But they hadn’t expected such a drastic difference so soon. Which of the alterations they’d made had led to this, to a complete reversal of Lotor’s focus from controlling the army to promoting the construction of the Weblum’s Breath? The Druids they’d killed? The prisoners they’d freed? Their warning to the Blade? The other paladins learning the aspects? There was no way to know, no way to look into the past and trace the path that had led them here. All they could do was exactly what Shiro had said and focus on what to do now.

 

Kurogane touched the console, opening a connection to the Long Wind and the surprised on-duty communications specialist. “Avenol, we have a problem. I need to speak to Shiiar’keh immediately.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A rough sketch of Matt's H'ress'kaayan: https://vldaspect.tumblr.com/post/164953754300/matts-hresskaayan-chapter-22
> 
> And for anyone interested, I wrote a little blurb on what languages are commonly used among the Icebringers and why: https://vldaspect.tumblr.com/post/164802435135/the-icebringers-and-languages


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No warnings for this chapter.
> 
> Stayed up way past my usual bedtime to finish writing chapter 27 because I've had like no time to write this week, but here you go.
> 
> Also, just for curiosity's sake: Would there be any interest in a companion piece to this story focusing on Matt's time between the arena and his reunion with Shiro and Pidge? I might not write it until this is finished, but I want to see if there'd be anyone who would want that.

If the mood had been serious the last time they had met to discuss a plan of attack, now the atmosphere in the meeting room was downright grim, with tension so thick it could have been cut up and used as building material. The room was packed with the Long Wind’s best strategists and hunters, and viewscreens offered windows into similarly crowded areas on her sister ships, called in by Shiiar’keh as soon as Kurogane had finished explaining to the pack leader exactly what they’d learned.

 

From his position near the center of the room, Matt looked around at the faces of those assembled. Determination and anger seemed to be the default emotions, not that he could blame any of them. The Alteans and the H’ress had both lost their homeworlds to world-breaker weapons over ten thousand years earlier, and they refused to allow the same to happen to others if there was anything they could possibly do to prevent it.

 

He stepped forward and cleared his throat and all eyes instantly turned toward him, silence flooding the room. One last deep breath to steady his nerves--he didn’t think he would ever get used to the respect his  _ h’ress’kaayan _ earned him in situations like this--and he raised his voice to address the crowd, Galran syllables slipping easily off his tongue now. “Alright. You should all know why this meeting has been called, but to recap. We have received word from another of our allies, the Blade of Marmora, that the world-breaker class weapon that is or will be known as the Weblum’s Breath is currently being constructed at an unknown location. Based on the increased rate of resource diversion, it is believed that they are pushing the rate of construction high as it will go, meaning we need to find and destroy it as quickly as possible before it can be completed.”

 

Matt turned slowly on the spot as he spoke, allowing him to see everyone with his good eye. “As I said, we don’t know where it’s being built, but we do know where to find out.” He reached out and lightly touched the control panel beside him and a hologram burst to life overhead, a handful of planets orbiting a brown dwarf star. Similar projections were being mirrored on the other ships for visibility. “The fifth planet of the Metalt system, Karshelta, is home to the Trepan Kev Administrative Complex, the backup data repository for the Galra Empire.” A wave of his hand and the star system was replaced by a three-dimensional rendering of a large underground structure, glowing blue lines marking out a maze of rooms and walls. Eyes narrowed as the strategists studied the layout of the building, and the ginger Human remained silent for a moment to allow them time to do so. He and Katie had spent several hours going over them that morning, piecing together what they could likely expect from the information the Blade of Marmora had been able to provide. They had never managed to break in themselves, and so what they did know about the base had been collected from other sources. Once they’d had a chance to look at the construction blueprints, however, both Holt siblings agreed that a lone Blade going into that place would not have been able to accomplish much anyway.

 

“As you can see, the base is divided into nearly fifty distinct sections branching off the main area spread across four separate floors. Given that this place was designed specifically to prevent anyone from doing what we’re trying to do, we’re going to operate under the assumption that each section contains a separate computer system, most likely unconnected to the others, with stored information being distributed between them either according to a specific organizational system, or possibly randomly. We hope the former, but we prepare for the latter. As such, we’ll need to get separate access to each of the systems to make sure we get all the information we need.”

 

“There will be two areas of attack to be dealt with. The aerial defenses, and the interior defenses.” Nervousness faded away as Matt continued to speak--starting was hard, but once he got going he always gained confidence. The Icebringers and the Paladins were all listening attentively to the basic strategy that he and Katie had spent the early hours of the morning devising, but he knew he could count on all of them to speak up if they saw a flaw in the plan. It was ambitious, dangerous, and there simply wasn’t time to do a lot of refining the way they had with the anti-Druid strategy, so it was critical that it be thoroughly picked apart now to maximize the chances of at least some of it surviving first contact with the enemy. “First, aerial defenses. The base is protected by nine cruisers and three dreadnoughts. It’s a lot of firepower, and we’ll need everything we can put in the air, including the main ships. Especially since I  _ don’t _ think we should have the Castle of Lions or Voltron on the space front of the fight.” 

 

There was an immediate outburst of consternation and confusion, many of those present wanting to know why he thought holding back two of their heaviest hitters from where they could do the most damage was a good idea. The only one who wasn’t reacting was Katie, who had already heard him work out the core plan he was trying to suggest. But so far it didn’t seem like a popular idea, even if he hadn’t had a chance to explain his reasons.

 

Finally Shiiar’keh stepped forward, holding up a clawed hand, and the others fell silent immediately. “Hear Matthew out, please.” The H’ress requested quietly. All four dark eyes were fixed expectantly on Matt, and he suppressed a shiver. The pack leader seemed to be giving him those thoughtful, appraising looks a lot lately, ever since he’d been reunited with Takashi and Katie. “You obviously have a plan of attack in mind. Take us through it, and once we have heard what you have to say, we will discuss, revise, or replace as the situation warrants.”

 

He gave the H’ress a respectful nod of gratitude, trying to get control over the resurgence of his nerves. “Thank you, pack leader Shiiar’keh.” Matt took a deep breath, glancing around the room again. As his eyes fell on Takashi, his boyfriend awarded him a reassuring smile and a small nod of support, love and trust written openly on his face. That was all he needed, and confidence returned. “Alright. Yes, I do have a strategy in mind.” He said firmly, lifting his chin and firmly ignoring the pack leader’s steady gaze. 

 

“First, the aerial theater of the attack. Nine cruisers and three dreadnoughts on the Empire side against two twelves of pack ships and their associated fighters. While the Castle would be a major asset, the damage it could do is not worth the risk of even temporarily losing the use of ten working Altean cryo-replenishers. We’re almost certainly going to need them when this fight is over.” He could see surprise, then understanding begin to spread across the faces of those around him, and allowed himself to feel a small flicker of satisfaction. “Given what the ground teams will be up against, there is a very high likelihood of major injuries and those pods can save lives. As such, we should hold the Castle in reserve unless absolutely necessary.”

 

“There’s a lot of complicated factors we have to consider in this mission. Aerial team needs to be able to hold off the defending ships. Ground teams need to be able to get through the defenses. Computer specialists must be able to hack through some of the best firewalls the Empire has to offer. And we need to get the ground mission in and out as quickly as possible because we have to assume that from the moment we enter the system, the clock is going to start counting down on the arrival of reinforcements.”

 

The gathered strategists and warriors were listening intently now as he ran through the factors they needed to consider when it came to attacking Trepan Kev. There was no skepticism anymore, only consideration and understanding. “The latter two points are why we’re not going to have Voltron above. We may have some of the Lions, based on the optimal distribution of Hunters, but we’re definitely going to need the Green Paladin as one of our hackers. I estimate we don’t have more than twenty people in the fleet with the skills necessary to break encryptions and security at this level, which means they’re going to need to hit two to three systems each. Less skilled techs will take longer to get in, so we don’t gain anything in the way of time by putting them in.”

 

“Time being the critical factor.” He gestured upwards to the system diagram overhead. “We have to assume that once we enter the system, the countdown starts on reinforcements arriving to back up the local defenders. Ground teams need to be in and out as fast as possible. This isn’t going to be a mission where we can afford to take prisoners, sadly, so we need ground teams that can tear through the defenses as fast as possible. To complicate things further, we know from the blueprints that the corridors are narrower than standard. I recommend against having H’ress, Morwaiths, or Let-fen-shai on the ground teams because their maneuverability will be too limited.”

 

Gra’shehn, studying the blueprints from their spot further around the room, nodded in approval. “Wise of you. They would be sh’keln in a corner in those hallways. What size teams do you suggest?”

 

“Teams of six. One tech, two close-range, three long-range. All small to medium Hunters, and fast movers. Enough to easily handle all but a very large number of defenders if they don’t get caught by surprise or separated, but not so many that they’ll be getting in each other’s way. We land them using the Voltron Lions, which have the largest capacities for passengers and the best ability to punch through the fighting to reach the ground. Assign adjacent system sections so they don’t have as far to go. Get in, copy out the data, get out.”

 

Shiiar’keh let out a low rumbling noise. “A solid foundation. I believe we can work from this as our base.”

 

As though the pack leader’s words had been a signal, the room broke up into a multitude of smaller discussions, and Matt heaved a sigh of relief as he stepped back from the center of the room. With so little time to spare, he had been worried about the plan being rejected and the strategy specialists having to start from scratch, but instead, from what he could hear being said so far, it seemed as though they were taking the plan nearly as he had outlined it. Team assignments were being discussed and a list of computer specialists with the necessary skills devised--after much debate, they settled on a list of twenty-two individuals from all the packs, including Katie, who they thought would be able to get in and out quickly enough to not slow down the mission. Six of those would still have to hit a third system, but it was better than ten of them.

 

“You did great, Matt.” Shiro said softly, startling him from his thoughts. The black paladin put an arm around his shoulder and pulled him close to press a kiss to the side of his head. “That plan is brilliant, and they all know it.”

 

“Stop, it is not.” The ginger huffed with a blush dusting his cheeks, leaning his head against his boyfriend’s shoulder. “It’s just the obvious strategy to balance our needs and abilities with the various constraints of the combat situation and the limitations of the available intelligence.”

 

“Which you came up with cold in just a few hours on not much sleep.”

 

He rolled his eyes. “Obvious. Like I said.”

 

Shiro chuckled and pressed another kiss to his head. “Well, obvious or not, we’ve got our plan. All that’s left is to see who’s going to be fighting where, and find out when we’re going in.”

 

“That will probably take a few hours.” Matt knew from experience how long the planning for one-off missions like these could take. Ever since he had been added to the Long Wind pack as the Boiling Rock’s survivors were distributed among the other ships, Shiiar’keh had often invited him to sit in on strategy sessions, and encouraged him to contribute. They insisted that was the way of things among the Icebringers, that anyone could speak up regardless of station or experience and have their ideas considered fairly, and since he had previously demonstrated a knack for strategy, his Human way of thinking might spot holes other species would miss. Hence why so many different species were always represented at the strategy sessions. The time constraints simply meant the fine-tuning would be limited to several hours rather than up to a few days.

 

“Then why don’t we get some lunch, and you can show me around more of the ship?” His boyfriend suggested, removing his arm in favour of lacing their fingers between them in a gentle way that never failed to bring a smile to the ginger’s face. “Keith says there’s a fantastic hydroponics deck, although he could have done without getting chased by whatever it is that lives in the room with the snow.” With a gentle tug they started toward the door, moving slowly in deference to Matt’s handicap.

 

Matt choked, then burst out laughing. “Is  _ that _ why we had to send Katie to collect them that day, they wandered into the  _ ssh’ohl _ habitat? If it chased them and didn’t get them it must not have been trying very hard.”

 

“I dunno, it nearly took Lance’s head off to hear Keith tell it…” The happiness in Shiro’s voice as he recounted Keith and Lance’s misadventure brought a smile to Matt’s face as they headed off in the direction of the cafeteria, and for a moment he could forget about the danger hanging over all their heads.

 

__________

 

Allura was startled by the speed with which the Icebringers finalized the details of the mission to attack Trepan Kev. But then, looking at the grim determination that seemed to paint every face on the ship, she realized she really shouldn’t have been.

 

The tense atmosphere that filled every corner of the Long Wind was strongest wherever H’ress or Alteans gathered. They were decaphoebs too young to remember the worlds their races had been born on, worlds long since turned to icy rubble in the orbit of their stars, but the stories of those worlds had been passed down generation after generation to them. The H’ress were more fortunate in that their ancestors had been able to make a deliberate escape before their homeworld’s destruction, taking some parts of their culture with them, but that world was still  _ lost. _ All either race had was fragments and echoed memories, and perhaps it was the awareness of just how much they had lost that drove them now to do anything necessary to prevent the same fate from befalling another race.

 

She understood in a way that her paladins did not, aside from the two time-travellers. When she had been put in cryo-sleep, on her father’s orders, Altea had not yet been destroyed but the Empire’s ships had hung menacingly in the sky. She did not know what had happened after that--Coran refused to discuss it, saying only that he wished to avoid burdening his only remaining family with painful memories when she had quite enough on her shoulders already--only that she had awakened to a Castle-ship empty of all that was familiar but herself, Coran, and the Black Lion, facing five aliens of a completely unfamiliar species, and found herself immediately confronted with the fact that her father, her home, and everything she knew were ten thousand cycles gone, shredded to pieces by the weapons of the Galra Empire.

 

Somehow that had made learning that Zarkon was still the Emperor  _ worse _ . One of the only surviving fragments of the world she remembered was the very man who had destroyed everything else.

 

And now his son intended to follow in his father’s footsteps and destroy some other helpless world, just as he had done in the unaltered future to Arus, to Earth, to Olkari, and others. Was it any wonder that as soon as the teams for the mission had been announced those groups had gathered immediately to get a feel for how their skills would mesh once they descended on Trepan Kev, while the hangars became a feverish hive of activity as every fighter was inspected and prepped for battle?

 

Pacing the hallways to kill time before the assault--Shiiar’keh had decided the attack should be made the same day, since many of the Hunters would be too keyed-up to sleep, and they could not afford to go into this fight exhausted--Allura found herself awestruck at the well-oiled machine of preparation that was the Long Wind in the hours before the assault. None of their previous fights had had this sort of all-consuming intensity beforehand. Every set of hands was at work, making sure that everything was as ready as it could be.

 

She stopped in the hangars and watched the fighters being prepared. While technicians checked weapons and shielding, the pilots boarded their craft to do their systems checks. Both groups were composed of many different species, but to her surprise she saw that many of the small craft seemed to have Hylathian or other aquatic pilots. As she watched, one outfitted themselves with a tight orange suit and, at the direction of the techs, moved this way and that in the water behind the access port nearest their vehicle. The thrusters of the ship turned this way and that in response, and then she understood. Who better to pilot spacecraft than being who moved in three dimensions naturally?

 

Moving on, the Altean Princess passed crowds of personnel moving this way and that in the wide corridors of the ship. Some were laden with tool and parts for last-minute maintenance, while others carried crates of supplies marked with medical labels, restocking the hospital areas in preparation for the aftermath of the fighting. She passed a group of children of different species being shepherded by a handful of older beings, and the calmness of their faces drove home how much this war was part of the daily life of the people of this time. Allura felt a sudden surge of determination. One way or another, she would ensure this was the last generation that had to live like this, where a major battle that would claim the lives of friends and family was simply part of the routine.

 

All too soon a loud warbling call was audible over the Long Wind’s speaker systems. Not the snarling hunt call, not yet, but the final call to battle positions. Allura quickly headed for the hangar where the Lions were being loaded. Keith was supposed to take her back to the Castle of Lions before returning to collect his load of ground teams, since the smaller Red Lion would take less time to load than the much larger Black and Yellow.

 

The Red Paladin gave her a nod of greeting over his shoulder as she entered the cockpit. “Ready for this?” He asked conversationally as Red picked her way carefully around the assembled crowd of warriors and headed for the open hangar doors.

 

“As much as one ever can be for something like this.” She sighed, looking around as Red leapt into space. The Icebringer ships were all but invisible against the background of distant  stars, their paint patterns blending in easily. “Are all of you on ground teams?”

 

Keith hummed a confirmation. “Pidge and I are in the same group, and Alejandro and Kurogane are together, but Lance, Hunk, and Shiro are all in different teams. Pidge is one of the techs with three targets.”

 

“Naturally. Her skills are incredible, especially when you consider that a cycle ago she’d never seen a Galra computer system before. ‘Talented’ doesn’t even begin to do her justice.”

 

“One part skill, two parts sheer guts if you ask me.” The red paladin commented back. “You’ve seen how she throws herself at challenges without a second thought.” He sighed as Red’s claws hit the floor of the Castle’s hangar. “She’s gonna get hurt doing that one of these days.”

 

“Well, when she does, we’ll all be there to patch her back up.” Allura reassured him with a smile as Red’s head dropped to lower her ramp. “Thank you. Stay safe, Keith.”

 

“Will do.” He promised after her as she left. As soon as she was clear of the ramp, the Lion’s head lifted once more and the massive machine was gone in a single graceful leap. The Altean watched the cat’s rapid flight back toward the Long Wind for a moment before turning and heading for the bridge. As much as she would have liked to join her paladins on the ground for this fight, she was needed here, ready to assist in fighting or escape should the battle go terribly wrong.

 

“Welcome back, Princess. All systems are go and ready.” Coran greeted her as she entered the main deck, stepping easily onto the platform with the control pedestals. The main battle displays were already active, and a quick pulse of quintessence into the controls told her that the ship’s engines were up and running and ready for her commands after sitting idle during the last few decarotations in the Long Wind’s tractor beam. He shot her a welcoming smile over his shoulder as he settled in at his own station, ready to monitor the particle barrier strength and the targeting systems.

 

She smiled warmly in return. “Thank you, Coran. It shouldn’t be long now.” Even as she said it, the main com crackled. Shiiar’keh’s face appeared on the screen, the H’ress taking central command of the other packs for this mission. “Commencing hunt in five dobashes.” They warned.

 

“Understood. Good hunting.”

 

“Good hunting.” The connection closed once more, and Allura took a deep breath. Very soon they would be descending on one of the most heavily-defended bases in the Empire in an attempt to retrieve information that would lead to an assault on an even more heavily-defended target, to prevent the total devastation that the Weblum’s Breath was capable of wreaking in the hands of the Empire. The dobashes seemed to tick by with agonizing slowness, her heart already pounding with adrenaline.

 

Then suddenly it was time. The com spat a single word--“ _ H’ress’wr!” _ and even before the last syllable had died her energy was flooding the controls to activate the teleduv. All the ships would be going through separately for speed, and emerging as close to the target as they dared to allow them first strike before their opponents could bring their weapons to bear. The Castle’s portal opened, small compared to the massive blue rings that gave entry to the Icebringer ships, and she sent her ship plunging through.

 

They came out in a high orbit over Karshelta, further back than their allies who were dumping their fighters into the air even before they’d fully emerged from their portals. The tiny craft rushed their much larger opponents, strafing them with gunfire as they streaked past. Allura had to give the Empire ships credit however, for the speed with which they rallied to answer the surprise attack. Before the last streams of fighters had even made their run the light and medium guns on the purple vessels were opening fire and the Icebringer fighters were forced to break off and evade.

 

“There go the Lions!” Coran called out, and Allura quickly searched the battlefield for them. She’d been so focused on the opening salvos that she’d missed the launch of the Lions with their ground teams aboard. After a moment she caught sight of a blur of colour amidst the purple of Empire ships and the deep blue Icebringer fighters with their bright squadron markings. The Paladins had taken advantage of the confusion of the initial assault to punch through while there was almost no resistance to speak of, and had covered the distance to Karshelta’s thin atmosphere in moments. Even as she watched they plunged down towards the planet’s surface and she lost sight of them amidst the burning glow of reentry, their position marked only by the blue flares of their cannons as they took out the surface defenses on the way down.

 

A stray cannon shot shook the Castle as it glanced off the particle barrier and she quickly returned her attention to the orbital engagement below her. The cruisers had unloaded their fighters now, and the small craft were going against them fiercely as they wove around the larger weapons fire of the pack ships and the dreadnoughts. With so much happening, Allura knew she needed to stay alert. However much she wished to plunge into the battle and bring the Castle of Lions’ main particle cannon to bear, she knew her ship’s weapons were a last resort in favour of protecting the dozen cryo-replenishers deep in the Castle’s heart. An ion cannon’s massive beam lanced past, and she winced. Matt had been quite right that against odds like this, they were certain to need every single one.

 

_______

 

“ _ H’ress’wr! _ ”

 

Shiro’s hands tensed on the controls in anticipation, and Black growled her eagerness in his head as she stomped a foot impatiently. Only moments later, the view visible from the hangar changed to the swirling indigo of the interior of an Altean wormhole. As he kept his gaze fixed on the opening, it didn’t take long for the first of the Long Wind’s fighter squadrons to go streaking past, the orange chevrons on their sides marking them as the Kotel squad. More flashed past, flanking their mothership on the way out of the wormhole and ready to come out shooting, and just as the flare of blue signalled the other end of the portal he spotted the pink and green feathers of the Chal-fey squadron. “That’s our cue!” He called, and Black leapt instantly for the stars on the heels of the last team.

 

The air was already starting to fill with the blue and purple flares of laser fire, but he ignored it, leading the other Lions in a straight plunge down toward Karshelta. A few stray shots glanced off sturdy armor, then they were in atmo and opening fire to take out the main defense towers scattered around Trepan Kev’s small surface compound. Black roared, firing her mouth cannon, and one of the towers disintegrated in a burst of flame.

 

The five Lions hit the ground in a cloud of dust and immediately dropped their heads to let out their passengers. By the time Shiro left the ramp the large group had already formed up into their twenty-two teams of six, and Pidge was already crouched and breaking open the codes on the main door into the complex. She grinned smugly up at him as the doors whirred open, and then the first teams were charging inside, breaking off down side corridors ahead of him.

 

Shiro fell in beside his team, activating his bayard and feeling the comforting weight of the shield on his arm as he ran. His group consisted of an Olkari tech, a Bytor laden with several guns, a Galra who carried no weapons that he could see, and two others whose species he didn’t know. As they ran down the main hallway the Galra signalled their turn away from the other groups and they veered left, leaving the rest of the teams to their own assignments. 

 

A pulse of energy from the Bytor’s guns startled him until he saw the soldier--a live soldier, Matt had suspected there would be more live soldiers than sentries here given the importance of the base--crumple to the ground in a bloody heap. There was no time to feel guilt as they jumped the body and kept going. Worlds were at stake.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS/SPOILERS FOR THIS CHAPTER: Major character injury, blood, graphic depictions of injury, heavy emotional content
> 
> Buckle up, naughty children, it's emotional devastation time.

As soon as she got the doors open Pidge was back on her feet, falling into step beside Keith in the middle of their group as she tapped her wrist computer to bring up the map of the base. “Straight to the end of the corridor, left turn, down three flights.” She rattled off the instructions easily, picking up the pace as other groups around them split off toward their targets. Their teammates kept pace easily, a Galra, an Arusian, and a pair of crab-like insectoids apparently called Ch’meks. As one of the best techs assigned to this missions, Pidge had been given targets at the far end of the base under the assumption that she could make up for the extra travel time with her speedy hacking even with a third objective. She couldn’t help but be flattered by their confidence in her abilities, and was determined to get the job done as quickly as possible. They couldn’t afford delays or screw-ups.

 

“Silent alarms.” Keith noted quietly. They’d already heard distant sounds of weapons fire as other teams met their first obstacles, but otherwise the only sound was their own footsteps ringing off the metal floor.

 

Before she could even nod or shake her head, their path was abruptly cut off by a pair of soldiers lunging out of a hallway ahead of them with their guns raised to fire. The first was taken down by plasma bolts to the head and chest from the Ch’meks’ guns before they could even get a shot off, while the other only had time for a single spray of fire that went wide as the Arusian’s battle hammer found their chest and folded them in half with a sickening crunch of armor and bone. Pidge refused to give the crumpled bodies a second glance in passing as they resumed their steady run down the long corridor. The clock was ticking.

 

The main corridor was long but they reached the far end without further incident, the remaining handful of teams following them down the steep stairwell before splitting off in different directions. Pidge’s group loped steadily down the maze of hallways, following the construction blueprints Kolivan had provided as they headed for one of the large rooms near the far end. A few times they found their path barred by Empire soldiers, usually in ones and twos, and left them behind as slumped, bloody bodies against the walls.

 

When they finally reached their destination, Pidge huffed in annoyance. The blueprints did nothing to convey the sheer size of this place, and it had taken longer than she liked just to reach their first objective. Down here, there was no indication of the vicious fighting raging high overhead, but she knew it was there, and that the longer she took, the more of their fighters would not be coming home after this battle. She crossed immediately to the main console, noting the size of the stacks of data storage units to either side. There was no way they could pull all of this data, no matter how useful it would be. They would have to simply pull the data on the movements of almathium shipments and a few other things and hope for the best.

 

She plugged in her data tablet and got to work at the console, letting the rest of the world fall away as she concentrated. If any threats showed up, it was up to the other five members of her team, the two Ch’meks and the Arusian outside and Keith and the tall Galra inside, to protect her while she got the job done. Code began to scroll across her screen and she let out an appreciative whistle. “Fuck, even Zarkon’s command ship didn’t have security this tight on their systems.”

 

The Galra snorted, adjusting her grip on her rifle. “Zarkon’s command ship’s systems do not contain the detailed dispositions of every ship, soldier, and slave in the Empire. Trepan Kev does.” She regarded the paladin grimly. “You can get through it?”

 

“Of course I can. Just give me a minute.” Her fingers flew over the keyboard as she muttered to herself under her breath. The defenses were downright impressive, but she refused to consider for even a moment that they might be more than she could handle. She prodded and tweaked, poking at holes and testing weak spots. The defenses were highly advanced, doing their best to respond to her attacks, but they couldn’t keep up with Katie Holt. After several agonizing minutes she let out a growl of triumph. “I’m in. Everything’s encrypted, but I should still be able to pull the files.” Suiting actions to words she sent her connection diving into the data banks, pulling out everything that contained certain keywords, like almathium and the names of several highly-skilled engineers that Kolivan had suggested they trace, and dumped it all into the tablet. The upload bar crept slowly across the screen, leaving her tapping her foot impatiently. “Come on…”

 

Just as the transfer was finishing there was a shout from outside. “We have company!” Pidge cursed, yanking the tablet free and tucking it into her chest plate for safe-keeping as she grabbed her bayard and followed Keith and the Galra out into the corridor. The scene they found was one of chaos, one of the Ch’meks firing desperately to keep a cluster of soldiers pinned behind a nearby corner. The other Ch’mek was clutching their uppermost shoulder, the scent of blood and burnt flesh strong in the confines of the hallway as the Arusian wrapped a makeshift bandage around the area. All three were pinned in the recessed doorway by the return fire of their opponents.

 

The Galra snarled and lunged forward between them, bringing her rifle to bear even as she charged the enemy position. Keith kept hot on her heels, sword ready, and the Arusian and uninjured Ch’mek leapt to follow as Pidge took charge of their injured teammate. By the time she’d finished securing the bandage the scuffle was over, the other four spattered with blood and the Arusian limping where a laser had grazed their thigh. She looked them over with a surge of trepidation as she helped the Ch’mek to his feet. Two moderate injuries already, and they’d only completed one objective. Hopefully everyone else was having better luck than they were.

 

“Which way to the next target?” The Galra growled, adjusting her grip on her weapon. Her upward glance was a stark reminder that they couldn’t afford to waste time worrying. Everyone who had volunteered for the ground teams had known exactly what they were getting into. The spent their whole lives going on mission they knew they might never come back from.

 

The green paladin hastily consulted her map. “This way.” She pointed off down a side hallway and fell in step with the group as the larger alien took the lead in the direction she had indicated.

 

They were moving slower now, with the Arusian’s injured leg holding them back, but they limped along with gritted teeth in the tense silence that surrounded the group. As they passed through an intersection distant shouts and fighting could be heard that had Keith glancing down the side corridor and the Galra’s ears swivelling in response, but they kept moving without a word. Each team had their own job to do, and they simply had to hope that enough teams would get their recovered data out for them to find the Weblum’s Breath and destroy it, even if she could see the tightness in the faces of the others at the knowledge that their friends and packmates were in trouble and there was nothing they could do to help them right now.

 

The second set of computers went off without a hitch, and more quickly than the first now that she knew the trick to breaking through the security, but the eerie silence inside the base made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. This wasn’t right. It should have been harder than this. Where were all the guards? They hadn’t seen more than two dozen so far, all regular soldiers, and even split between intercepting all the different teams, in a base this size there should have been more. They should have gotten swarmed in the time it took to deal with that group back at the first computer room.

 

Keith obviously was thinking along the same lines as his head turned this way and that, sharp dark eyes studying distant corners and listening carefully. “Let’s get to the last one quickly and get out of here.” He said quietly, peering once more over his shoulder in the direction they’d come from. She could see the tension in every line of his body, in the way his hand tightened around the grip of his sword as he set off down the hallway again toward their third and final target.

 

As they passed through another intersection in this Galra-made maze, they only had an instant’s warning, a gleam off a rifle barrel in the darkness far to their right. Then their Galra companion was shoving her and Keith forward with a barked command to “Run!” as a dozen shots lanced through the open space where the two corridors met. Chancing a glance over her shoulder as she broke into a sprint, Pidge saw the limp, bloody forms of the Arusian and one of the Ch’meks--the uninjured one, she realized, glancing at the shoulder of the one still with them--sprawled unmoving across the floor behind them. Then her view was obscured by a dozen Empire soldiers in dark armor that served as terrifyingly effective camouflage in these dark hallways as they came around the corner in pursuit of the remaining four hunters and their group was forced to make a sharp turn to get out of the line of fire.

 

They took the next two turns at a dead run, the sounds of pursuit drawing closer over the rasp of their own heavy breathing. The Ch’mek snarled something furiously to themselves that didn’t translate, hefting up their heavy rifle with a grimace of pain. “Go! Get data, get out!” They ordered, digging in their heels as they spun to face the oncoming soldiers. “I delay them! For you, for Dalmatai, for pack! _ H’ressyan kaa H’ress sh’ra! _ ”

 

There was no time to argue, and even if there had been Pidge knew there would have been no convincing the alien. She’d seen that look before, in desperate fights like this one, every time a friend or an ally or a stranger made a last desperate stand for the sake of others. All she could do was join the Galra in yelling “Good hunting!” over their shoulders as they made another sharp turn out of sight of the imminent encounter. The noise of rifle fire and muffled shouting echoed behind them until they were no longer in earshot.

 

Pidge swallowed hard against the lump in her throat and forced herself to keep running.

 

They finally reached the third computer room and Pidge threw herself at the console with desperate haste, fingers fumbling with the connecting cable as she made a loud sound of frustration. She finally got the cord into place and slapped it down beside her as she booted up the computer, fingers flying to access the system and get them out of this place before they lost anyone else.

 

The computer snarled a warning at her and she cursed. The security parameters on this one were different from those on the other two, a wise precaution but a delay they absolutely did not need right now, with three of their team dead and a dozen skilled Empire soldiers breathing down their necks.

 

“They’re not playing anymore.” Keith commented, startling her into looking up at him across the room as her fingers stilled for a moment in confusion. The red paladin’s gaze wasn’t on her, however. He was turned toward one wall, looking back the way they’d come. “The soldiers. They probably send rookies out first after intruders, and then if they can’t deal with the problem quickly enough then the more experienced ones go out to clean up. Different armor, stronger weapons, better skills.”

 

Their last remaining teammate hummed in agreement, peering out through a crack at the edge of the door. “Makes sense. They were not expecting a large coordinated assault. But now we are outgunned as well as outnumbered. How much longer, Green Paladin?” She turned her yellow gaze toward Pidge, who jumped.

 

“Um...not sure. The security’s even tighter on this computer than on the other two, with a different firewall set-up. It’s taking me longer to get through.” She glared at the screen and changed her line of attack against the shifting code of the system defenses. “I’ll have it in a minute, though.” She promised firmly.

 

The three of them fell into a tense silence broken only by the clatter of Pidge’s fingertips over the keyboard set into the console and the green paladin’s quiet muttering to herself. With her lips pulling back over her teeth in a silent snarl of frustration, she drove a piercing shaft of code toward a weak point in the firewall and finally, finally found herself through. Instantly she started going through the files for what they needed, and was shocked to see how many there were. “Jackpot, guys. Over ten times as many relevant files as on either of the other two systems.”

 

“Transfer them quickly.” The Galra warned quietly, ears twitching toward the door. “I don’t think we have much longer.”

 

Grimacing, Pidge nodded as her eyes tracked the upload bar on the tablet. More files meant a longer transfer time, and she could already hear the distant footsteps of approaching soldiers, no doubt alerted by her efforts to break into this computer. They seemed to clack against the metal floor in time with her racing heart as she counted down the long seconds until they had what they needed as the progress bar spooled upward with agonizing slowness.

 

It hit 100% and even as the word ‘complete’ flashed across the screen she yanked the tablet free and shoved it under her chest plate.

 

In the same moment the door blasted open under heavy fire, the too-familiar crack of Empire rifles echoing deafeningly off the bare walls.

 

Keith grabbed her hand, pulling her toward the door as the Icebringer Galra leapt ahead of them with a furious yell that was nearly drowned out by the crack of her own rifle firing as fast as it would go.

 

Pidge was aware of confused shouts and the crack of gunfire. The silvery flash of Keith’s sword and the green glow of her katar. The iron stench of plasma-burned metal and the copper reek of blood. The sharp tug of flesh giving way under her blade and the steady pull of Keith’s hand on her own.

 

Then they were through the press of bodies and running.

 

They plunged headlong down the hallway as laser fire streaked past them, diving into one side passage and twisting up another with the soldiers hot on their heels. There was no time to wonder if their last teammate was with them or lost like the others, no time to keep track of the many turns and changes of direction they were making in order to check them against the map later. Only the ache of her heaving lungs and the burn of her muscles and the sharp agony of the stitch in her side and desperate terror as they ran for their lives deep underground in this massive Empire stronghold.

 

Keith took two sharp turns ahead of her and then she suddenly found herself yanked sideways, a hand clapped over her mouth to muffle her shriek of surprise. The only light was the aquamarine glow of their armor’s indicator lights, illuminating what appeared to be the inside of a maintenance closet. With the red paladin’s hand over her mouth, she froze at the muffled sound of the soldiers running past their hiding place, not daring to move until the sound had faded in the distance.

 

Only then did she allow herself to relax slightly, chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. Every breath was sending shocks of pain up her side where the muscles spasmed from the strain, and she could feel sweat plastering her hair to her scalp. Keith was panting as well as he pulled up the map on his wrist computer and ran a finger over the map as he tried to figure out where they’d ended up and what direction they needed to go to get out.

 

The painful stitch in her side was making it hard to breath and she brought one hand up to massage the cramped muscles. But instead of pressing against the fabric of her undersuit Pidge found herself letting out a sharp high noise of agony as her fingers sank into a hot wetness that should not have been there and sent lightning bolts of pain ricocheting through her body hard enough to drive her to her knees.

 

Keith was at her side in an instant, expression anxious in the suit lights. “Pidge? Pidge, what’s wrong? Talk to me!” She opened her mouth, but the words wouldn’t come. All she could do was lift her hand shakily from her side, from the gaping wound that she hadn’t even felt through the haze of fear and adrenaline, and let her wide-eyed stare do the talking as she looked down at it. She heard his horrified intake of breath more as background noise to the blood that slicked the torn fabric, the smell of singed flesh, and the cracked pink-stained curve of what she distantly thought must have been one of her ribs exposed where a deep channel of flesh had been ripped away.

 

“Oh god.  _ Shit _ .” Keith breathed, hands hovering over the injury uncertainly. “Shit, this is bad.” She wanted to laugh, there was an understatement if there ever was one, but she couldn’t seem to find the breath. That was probably for the best anyway. Laughing would have hurt. When careful hands steadied her Pidge realized she was swaying. Her friend guided her gently until she was laying down on the cold metal floor and pulled off her helmet, her head resting in his lap. “It’s gonna be okay, Pidge. Just hang on.” He said quietly. The red paladin was casting around him, trying to find something to staunch the blood flow with, but there was nothing.

 

The green paladin watched upside down as he thumbed desperately at his coms. “Guys, can anyone hear me? Emergency! Dammit!” he hissed. “No signal down here!” His voice was shaking. She tried to remember ever hearing Keith so frightened and came up empty. Angry she could picture easily, happy, frustrated, playful, even anxious. But never afraid. Not like this.

 

Not that she could blame him. Cornered deep in a subterranean Empire base, with patrols hunting them and no way to call for help. She could feel her heart rate start to pick up and tried to take a deep breath to calm herself, but the stretch of the muscles sent another burning wave of agony radiating from her side and she couldn’t suppress a high whine of pain as she screwed her eyes shut, tears springing to the corners.

 

“Easy! Just take it easy!” She could feel Keith moving above her. Then a firm tug at her already damaged suit, and the sound of material tearing. Opening one eye, she saw him using his Marmora knife to cut away a chunk of her undersuit around her exposed stomach and sides. One last yank freed the patch of material and he quickly bundled it up and pressed it over the wound. “Keep pressure on this.” He ordered, firmly repositioning her right arm across her stomach and pressing her hand against the fabric. “We  _ have _ to slow the blood loss.”

 

The desperate note in his voice gave her pause. When had she been injured? How long had her side been torn open, her blood pouring away under the forceful pounding of her heart as they ran? How much blood could a person lose? She couldn’t remember. Matt would know. But Matt wasn’t here. He was up on the Castle of Lions, waiting for them all to come back. She suddenly, desperately wished her brother was there to hold her and tell her everything would be okay.

 

“Keith?” She whispered. Her voice sounded strange to her own ears, young and shaky. “I’m scared.”

 

His hands cupped her cheeks gently, and she pretended not to notice the way they shook and left bloody smears behind. But the touch was comforting nonetheless. If Matt couldn’t be here, at least another of her brothers was. “Pidge, it’s gonna be okay. I’ll keep trying the coms, one of the others will come and help us get past that patrol, and we’ll get you up to the Castle and a healing pod. You’re gonna be alright.”

 

She managed a small nod at the reassurances and closed her eyes, taking shallow breaths in an attempt to spare her torn muscles. She could hear him calling into the coms, over and over, pleading for one of their teammates to answer and falling silent only briefly as another patrol clattered past outside their hiding spot. But there were too many thick metal walls in the way, and too much rock over head. The only one on the same level of the base as them was Hunk, and he was somewhere at the far end, far outside the limited range of the coms when there was so much shielding around them. The green paladin shifted her hand slightly and could feel the slickness of the fabric, now soaked with her blood and hot and sticky against her cold skin. There was so much. Too much.

 

She didn’t realize she was crying until her breath hitched, sending another spear of agony through her body and making her tremble and whimper. Keith was murmuring reassurances but they were muffled in her ears. She didn’t want to die.

 

Pidge didn’t realize she’d spoken aloud, but Keith inhaled sharply. “You’re not going to die. We’re gonna get out of here and it’ll be okay. You’ll be alright. You just gotta hang on a little longer for me.” He sounded as though he were trying to convince himself as much as her, his fingers clenching momentarily where they rested on her head. “Dammit, someone answer me!” He snarled into the coms, a rising note of panic betraying that he knew just as well as she did that they were running out of time. There was no getting out of here without help. Keith wouldn’t be able to outrun the soldiers or use his sword while carrying her.

 

She knew she should just pass him the tablet and tell him to take the data they’d come for and go. The other four members of their team had already died to secure this information. Pidge could see their bodies clearly in her mind’s eye, the slumped bodies of the Arusian and the first Ch’mek, the other Ch’mek’s defiant snarl as they stood their last stand, the Galra’s bristling back as she leapt to clear a path for the two paladins. All sacrificed for their mission, the latter two leaping knowingly and willingly to their deaths with a courage she couldn’t seem to find in herself no matter how hard she tried.

 

“I don’t...I’m not brave, Keith. Green paladins are supposed to be brave.” The blue lights of their suits were making her head hurt and she closed her eyes in an attempt to lessen the pain. It was cold down here, in the lower levels of the base. She hadn’t noticed that before. “But I’m not. I’m scared.” She couldn’t stand the thought of Keith leaving her alone down here with the darkness and the pain and the reek of her own blood.

 

It was becoming hard to focus, and she knew that was a bad thing, but she didn’t seem to have the strength to care or to stop herself from pouring out the thoughts running through her head. “I d-don’t want to die. I want to go back to the Castle, and be with you guys, all of you, and Matt and Allura and Coran. I-I want...I want to go  _ home _ .” The last word came out in barely a whisper, a soft, despairing plaint. It was a desire hidden deep in the back of her heart that she’d never given voice to, no matter how often Lance and Hunk had talked about her families, or how many times she’d caught Shiro alone on the command deck in the middle of the night with the holoprojection of Earth floating overhead.

 

It wasn’t that she’d never wanted to go home as desperately as they did. But she’d never allowed herself to think about it. Never allowed herself to think past the next battle, the next mission, the next opportunity to find her brother and her father.

 

Never stopped to think about what she would do once she found them, what she would do After the war.

 

But now she was going to die, millions of lightyears from home, and there would be no After for her, and all she could think of was all the things she’d wanted to do that would never happen now.

 

“I want to go home.” Pidge repeated, her voice cracking as she weakly hugged herself with the arm that wasn’t trying to stem the relentless flow of her life’s blood out onto the floor. “I wanted see my mom again, and tell her I found Mattie, and introduce her to Green and everyone else. I wanted to call Iverson out on all his bullshit, right to his face, and zap him for hurting us all.”

 

“I wanted...I wanted to see more of the stars, without having to be in a fight every time. There’s so many pretty planets and we never get a chance to appreciate them. I wanted to go back to Olkari and learn more about how they use quintessence to shape their machines. I wanted to learn more about Olkari tech, and Galran tech, and Altean, and H’ress and everything else. There’s so much I haven’t gotten to learn yet, out here.”

 

There was water dripping onto her face. Was Keith crying? Keith never cried. Or did he? He was as good as a brother to her now, but she didn’t even know whether he ever cried.

 

“...I wanted to get to know you better, and Lance, and Hunk, and everyone else. You’re my family and I barely know you and that’s not right. Family’s supposed to know everything about each other. I’m sorry, Keith.”

 

“It’s okay, Pidge. It’s okay.” Her brother’s voice was cracking, and sounded muffled in her ears. He reached down and laced his fingers with her small, cold ones. It helped. Her other hand was tingling, an uncomfortable pins-and-needles sensation that made it hard to tell if she was still holding onto the bundle of fabric.

 

She shivered, fingers tightening around his. “I wanted to see if I ended up taller than Matt when I grew up. I wanted to try alcohol, and go to college, and invent new tech, and see what it felt like to fall in love, like Matt and Shiro and Alejandro and Kurogane and Hunk and Shay and you and Lance. I wanted to know what it felt like to love and be loved like that.” The words came out in barely a whisper. It was hard to breathe, and her injured side felt like it was burning under the fabric pressed against it. Keith was saying something but she couldn’t make out the words anymore.

 

The thoughts were falling apart in her head now, hazy and incomplete. The world was reduced to the pain in her side, the tingling in her right hand, and Keith’s shaking grip on her left. She wanted to keep living, learning, loving. She didn’t want to die. Not now. Not yet.

 

There was a blinding light on the other side of her closed lids, muffled yelling from Keith, and then the world went black.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: major character injury, blood, heavy emotional content, and a major breakdown
> 
> Holy shit everyone was screaming at me over the last chapter it was great. XD I think my favourite comment actually came from ffnet, with "thanks for this chapter but please take it far away from here." But now you finally get to see Pidge's fate, and the end of the battle at Trepan Kev.
> 
> Also, important note about updates! The next few chapters are going to go up at 1 week intervals instead of the usual 'finish 1 post 1'. This is because I'm at a part where I'm writing something big, long, and complicated, and I want to get it all done in one go without posting any of it to make sure I don't miss anything. I also plan to chose the chapter breaks in that section for plot reasons rather than word count. So for the next little while, until I say otherwise, expect new chapters to go up on Saturdays!

Hunk’s hands shook where they gripped the handles of his cannon. He hefted it, squinted, tried to will himself to fire at the two enemy soldiers charging down the hallway toward them.

 

Hesitated.

 

Another weapon barked and two bolts of blue plasma streaked past him. One took the first attacker in the neck, the other his companion in the jaw, painting the hallway in twin sprays of crimson as they toppled forward under their own momentum to sprawl across the ground like puppets with their strings cut, unmoving in spreading pools of their own blood.

 

Hunk averted his gaze and tried not to be sick.

 

Looking away from their two latest kills had the unfortunate side-effect of resulting in accidental eye-contact with one of his teammates. The reptiloid shot him a frankly disgusted look for his reluctance before pointedly turning away and striding ahead down the hallway without so much as flinching when their boots splashed more flecks of blood onto the purple armor of the dead soldiers. The rest of their team, two Galra and two Balmerans, fell in behind the Velkwin easily, leaving the Yellow Paladin to bring up the rear as he tried very hard not to look down at the bodies.

 

He couldn’t do this. Coming on this mission was a mistake. The moment Matt had said there would probably be a higher ratio of live soldiers to robotic sentries than they normally encountered, he should have insisted on being put up above in Yellow instead of on a ground team. Up there he could have been some use, instead of being down here doing nothing but holding his group back.

 

“Keep up, Paladin!” One of the Galra hissed over his shoulder and he hastily lengthened his stride to keep close behind the others. They’d already completed two of their three targets and were nearly at the last of their objectives. He couldn’t wait until they could get out of here. Up ahead, the Velkwin peered around a corner and signalled a halt. Rapid handsigns indicated six enemies on the left side of the intersection, and designated the Galra and one of the Balmerans to take them out with their rifles. Hunk knew they should have been calling on him and his cannon as well, but they seemed to have given up on relying on him to take down soldiers in their way.

 

Not that he could blame them. His hesitations when faced with living beings as targets had already cost them a couple of minor injuries, and guilt flared in his chest whenever he looked at their tech’s bleeding ear, but he still hadn’t managed to fire a single shot so far during this mission.

 

It was one thing to shoot down robotic sentries. He could do that without flinching, leave dozens of them in sparking piles behind him when ship infiltrations went south. It didn’t bother him. They weren’t  _ alive _ . But there weren’t any sentries here, just live soldiers. Living, thinking beings with hopes and fears and dreams, who weren’t necessarily evil, just doing their jobs. Even though these soldiers were their enemies, and would have killed him without a second though, he couldn’t quite bring himself to pull the trigger on them. Even watching his temporary teammates take their targets down twisted his stomach ten times worse than any of Lance’s maneuvers in the Garrison’s simulators.

 

The shooting stopped and they moved off again, moving swiftly through two more crossroads before they reached their destination. The tech slipped inside, accompanied by the Velkwin, while the others took up posts outside the door. Hunk took the last place in the line, heaving a sigh. Just a few more minutes and then they could get out of here.

 

A crackle of static from his helmet distracted him. For a moment he thought he heard one of his teammates--maybe Keith?--calling out, but there was too much interference and the static vanished as quickly as it had come. Hunk tapped at the helmet uncertainly. He’d have to take a look at it when they got back, maybe something had been damaged when he’d attempted to spar with Ennan and ended up concussed right through the layer of protection. It had been working fine so far, but you never knew, and the last thing he needed was a mechanical failure at a critical moment.

 

“Something wrong?” One of the Balmerans was looking over at him curiously.

 

Hunk frowned and shook his head. “Just some, uh, interference on my coms. It might need some repairs, or there might be something in the walls messing with it. I dunno.”

 

“Probably the latter.” The other Balmeran put in, adjusting their grip on their rifle. “The blueprints indicated a type of metal that has shielding properties. Keeps us from using coms to coordinate our assaults, but also keeps the soldiers from calling for backup.”

 

“Really?” Hunk blinked. “I guess that makes sense, it would keep intruders from linking wirelessly from one system to the next, so I guess the advantages to the Empire outweigh the disadvantages. Explains the lack of robotic sentries, too, no way to transmit the control signal.” Maybe he should try to get a sample of the material, it could be useful. For what he wasn’t quite sure yet, but if he couldn’t think of something Pidge definitely would.

 

The door whooshing open between the two Balmerans refocused his attention. The Velkwin stepped out and set off without a word, while the Galra technician fell into the middle of the group, slipping the precious datapad under the chest plate of their armor to keep it safe. Hunk sighed with relief. Time to get out of here. Hopefully without having to kill any more soldiers on the way. He took up position at the rear of the group, matching his stride to those of the taller aliens.

 

The tense silence was broken abruptly as they passed through an intersection, a loud burst of static in his ears startling an exclamation from him. One of the others tried to ask him a question but he waved them silent, listening hard.

 

_ “D--...--omeo--...--r me!” _

 

“Keith!” Hunk hastily fiddled with the controls of his coms. “Keith, buddy, come in, what’s wrong?” The static had cut out most of the words, but there’d been no mistaking the panic in the red paladin’s tone, all the more alarming for the fact that he’d never heard him sound like that before. A stressed-out Keith normally sounded angry, not  _ scared _ . There was another crackle of static before the connection went dead, and the yellow paladin swore, tapping the controls. “My friends are in trouble.” Hunk said bluntly, directing his words to the Velkwin’s questioning expression. “I need to help them.” Interference or no interference, anything that could make Keith sound like that had to be bad news.

 

There was a moment’s whispered discussion amongst the others, before the large reptiloid nodded. “Very well. We got this far without your assistance, I’m sure we can make it back to the transports just fine without you.” With that cutting remark the others turned back to continue toward the exit. Only the two Balmerans glanced over their shoulders, a pair of silent nods wishing him good luck.

 

He took a deep breath, shaking off the insult, and studied his surroundings. The walls interfered with his coms. He needed to get closer to where Keith was if he was going to be able to hear him clearly. Pulling up his copy of the blueprints, he checked his position against the area where he knew Keith and Pidge’s group was assigned. They should be somewhere to his left, which explained why he’d managed to get a brief signal in the intersection where there were fewer walls in the way. Squaring his shoulders, the yellow paladin set off in that direction.

 

Periodically he called into his coms, trying to reach his teammates. A few times he got flickers of static, but no more words. Checking around a corner, he grimaced as he spotted a patrol nearby. He’d have to backtrack to get around them. Two corridors later, he found his way blocked again, and made a noise of frustration as he detoured further.

 

_ “--ge, it’s okay.” _

 

Worry turned to hope at the first crackle of static, loud like it had been when he first heard Keith’s voice, then to dread at the tone the red paladin was using now. The other teen’s voice was cracking and wet-sounding, as though he was speaking through tears. And was that the end of Pidge’s name he’d been saying? “Keith, buddy, can you hear me? It’s Hunk!” He called quietly, desperately hoping this time the signal wouldn’t fade.

 

_ “Hunk?” _ No mistaking the relief in Keith’s tone, or the anxiety.  _ “Hunk, we need help, hurry, please!” _

 

“I’m on my way, Keith, just hang in there. Where are you? What happened?” Checking around the corners, he set off at a steady jog forward again.

 

_ “I don’t know, a maintenance closet somewhere. We got attacked, had to run, and I lost track of the turns. Our group’s dead, there’s patrols looking for us, and Pidge is hurt. Bad. Hurry.” _

 

The bottom seemed to drop out of Hunk’s stomach. Keith, master of the downplayed injury, saying that Pidge was badly hurt? “How bad is bad, Keith? I’m coming as fast as I can, but I keep having to detour to get around patrols.” Nevermind that he didn’t know how he was supposed to find them if the red paladin didn’t even know where he was in this maze. His stomach was tying itself in knots of worry as he tried to think of a solution to this mess.

 

There was a staticy pause before Keith spoke again, voice breaking.  _ “...Really bad. A shot took a chunk out of her side when we were running, she’s already lost way too much blood. She’s conscious still, but I don’t think she’ll stay that way much longer. Hunk, I know you don’t like shooting live soldiers, but detouring will take too damn long!” _

 

Even as he said it, Hunk found himself boxed in once more, patrols of enemy soldiers between him and his friends. “Keith, c’mon, there has to be some way I can get through, just give me a minute.” He thought of the trail of bloody bodies his group had left behind on this mission and gagged in spite of himself. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t deliberately kill people face to face.

 

_ “Hunk, we don’t have time! If we don’t get her to a pod fast, Pidge is going to  _ die.  _ Do you understand me?! I don’t--I can’t--” _ He broke off suddenly with a startled exclamation, prompting Hunk to call his name in alarm. After a moment, Keith’s voice returned, giving a slightly hysterical laugh.  _ “I don’t believe it. She did it.” _

 

“Did what?”

 

_ “Her aspect. Curiosity and courage unlock healing touch, remember? The wound’s partly closed now. But it’s still bleeding, and she’s passed out and barely breathing. Hunk, please. You’ve gotta try. For Pidge. She’ll never make it otherwise.” _ Keith pleaded. In all the time he’d known him, Hunk had never heard him this emotional, this desperate. It was a side of the normally withdrawn Keith he’d never seen before, and it frightened him to the core as it drove home how truly critical the situation was.

 

The yellow paladin closed his eyes and leaned against the wall, taking a deep breath, then activated his bayard and peered around the corner at the closest group of soldiers, three of them. The cannon was a heavy weight in his hands. If he fired it, those three soldiers would die. If he didn’t, Pidge would. His friend, someone he’d come to see as a second sister. He couldn’t bear to lose her, but the longer he took to reach her, the greater the odds she wouldn’t live long enough to make it to the safety of a healing pod.

 

...If she died, what would happen to the Green Lion? The two time-travellers had said Allura would be able to be a back-up pilot, but she would never be a proper fit for any of the Lions. It would impair their ability to fight, to form Voltron. How many lives would that cost? A minute’s difference in battle meant thousands, maybe millions of lives saved or lost. Lives that were dependent on Voltron having true paladins in the cockpits. It wasn’t just Pidge’s life at stake, although hers was the one that weighed most heavily in his heart no matter what his duty to the rest of the universe as a paladin.

 

Hunk closed his eyes again, then opened them. He tightened his grip on the handles, and straightened, muscles coiling. “For Pidge.” He whispered. For Pidge, and all those Pidge would protect in the years to come.

 

Then he moved, whipping around the corner and opening fire on the soldiers, his cannon roaring burning energy at them before they could even react. Then they were down, boneless bloody heaps spread across the ground and he was past them, moving at a dead run towards the far side of the compound with his gaze locked resolutely on the hallways in front of him.

 

As he moved, the world seemed to shift slightly. Nothing changed that he could see, but he knew, somehow, in a way he lacked the words to describe, that there was another group of four soldiers two cross-corridors ahead and one to the left, that there was a squad of six five corridors straight back and several other groups within ten corridors of his forward path, that his infiltration team--two Galra, two Balmerans, one Velkwin--were the last group out from this floor and were nearly at the stairs, and that there was one Human and one half-Human, half-Galra, the former so weak he could barely feel their presence at all, fifteen corridors ahead and three to the left.

 

Keith and Pidge.

 

Yellow roared in his head as he ran, opening fire at any soldier who attempted to intercept him. He recognized now, what he’d been trying so hard to ignore before. That this was a war, and people were going to die no matter what on both sides of the conflict. No matter how much he wished there didn’t have to to be death, not everyone who deserved to live could be saved. But it was his duty as a paladin to try to control who died, and how many. Each of the soldiers he killed now might mean a million lives saved in the next year by Voltron, by the Green Lion, by Pidge. And he would choose that million innocent lives every time.

 

“I’m on my way, Keith, almost there. Just hang on.” He panted into the coms as he swung around the last corner with his finger already on the trigger and blasted the large patrol examining a spatter of blood droplets scattered across the floor. Three shots cleared his path and he jumped over the broken bodies that had once been soldiers with a suppressed shudder, heading for the door partway down that he knew concealed his friends. Pulling to a stop, he dismissed his bayard and pulled the door open with fumbling fingers.

 

Nothing could have prepared him for the sight that met his eyes. In the light that fell into the small space through the open doorway, Keith stared up at him with wide eyes that were rimmed in red, tears streaking his cheeks in mute testament to his despair at his inability to help their friend. One shaking hand held his bayard in a defensive position, ready to attack the intruder, while the other rested carefully on Pidge’s messy mop of ginger hair in silent comfort. The injured green paladin was stretched across the floor of the closet, her head in Keith’s lap and looking much too pale and tinier than Hunk had ever imagined she could be. Bloody fingerprints mixed with tears on her cheeks, and he could easily see the blood pooling on the floor around the wad of fabric that her limp hand still held to her side. She was so still that for one terrifying moment he thought he was too late. Then he caught the slight rise of her chest--too slight, she was fading too quickly--and he could breathe again.

 

Keith uncoiled from his defensive posture as soon as he realized who it was who had entered, bayard dropping to his side as his breath hitched in a hoarse sob of relief. “Hunk. H-How did you find us?”

 

“I’ll explain later, buddy.” Hunk promised. Once he knew the explanation himself. “Let’s take care of Pidge first. Can you carry her and still keep up with me?” He asked anxiously. If Hunk had to carry her, that meant close-quarters fighting all the way out, multiplying the likelihood of one of them getting badly hurt. He sighed in relief as the red paladin immediately gave a sharp nod. Together they gently slipped Pidge’s helmet back on as a precaution before arranging her carefully in Keith’s arms. Had their youngest member always been so small, so fragile? God, she was only  _ fifteen _ , she shouldn’t be out here fighting for her life in an alien military base. But their green paladin had always been a driven person, ignoring the potential consequences to herself in her pursuit of her goals, and once she knew her missing family were out here no force on Earth or off of it would have ever been enough to keep her feet on the ground. All they could do now was try to get her out of here alive.

 

Once Keith had a secure hold on Pidge, Hunk moved back to the door and peered around the edge into the corridor. The same strange sense that had guided him to his friends’ hiding place told him that there was another patrol headed their way, so they needed to get moving. “Come on. Stay close and follow me.” He ordered quietly, reactivating his bayard and setting off at a steady lope. A glance back over his shoulder confirmed that Keith was keeping up easily, Pidge’s tiny form not seeming to weigh him down in the slightest.

 

As they ran, the yellow paladin reached out with this new life-sense--it had to be an aspect, that’s the only explanation he could think of, but he’d figure it out later, right now getting out of here was what mattered--using it to guide their path and anticipate threats. Two Galra soldiers on the right up ahead, out of sight around a corner. He turned and fired as he moved into the intersection of the corridors, and they vanished from his ability to sense them as they dropped into unmoving heaps. Keep moving. His teammates were long gone, but he remembered where they’d been relative to where he was now and headed that direction to get to the stairs. Pidge was so faint behind him, almost indistinguishable against Keith if not for their differing species. They had to hurry.

 

He took out three more patrols on their sprint to the stairs. Hunk could feel Keith’s eyes on the back of his head each time he opened fire on living soldiers without so much as flinching, but explanations would have to wait. Up the stairs, moving a little more slowly, and out onto the main level of the base they had come through originally. They came out of the stairwell with Hunk’s cannon blazing at the dozen soldiers he knew were waiting for them and took them by surprise before they could even raise their guns.

 

The walls and floors on this level were bloodier and lined with still forms in purple and black Empire armor, a testament to the rebels that had had to pass through to get out with the precious data they’d acquired. He stretched his senses out as far as they would go, but couldn’t sense anything but Galra. They were the last ones to leave.

 

Several more times, soldiers blocked their way, and each time Hunk cleared the path. One life for a million, he reminded himself with each shot. Their lives for Pidge’s. Then they were out of the base and sprinting for the Lions. Green greeted them with a shriek of relief from close by where her claws had left deep gouges in the rock in her efforts to reach her paladin, and Red and Yellow met them halfway with their ramps already dropped in response to their paladins’ distress. Hunk heard Shiro yelling, asking questions, but they were running out of time.

 

“Go!” He ordered, shoving Keith toward Red. He didn’t see any of the Icebringers standing around, Shiro and Lance must have already loaded them into the Lions for the return journey. “We’ll cover you!” Keith nodded, disappearing up his Lion’s ramp, which snapped shut behind him. Hunk sprinted into Yellow’s waiting airlock and threw himself into the pilot seat, seeing Red launching herself skyward as his screens activated with Green as close on her tail as the slower Lion could manage.

 

Out here, he could feel the assorted lives crammed into Yellow’s cargo hold, could feel Black and Blue close by with their similar payloads and their Human pilots. Red was a blur streaking away from them under full power with two lives, one strong and one so terrifyingly faint, and Green not far behind her. As Yellow soared upwards with as much speed as his thrusters could provide, Hunk could sense the chaos that was the battle around them, Galra soldiers mixed with robotic sentries mixed with the thousands of species of the Icebringers, and the huge deposits of life that were the ships on either side of the fight.

 

It was overwhelming and yet not at the same time. To his eyes the battle was a confusing blur of thousands of ships weaving around each other too fast for his eyes to follow and further obscured by a blizzard of laser fire. It only took moments for Red and Green to vanish from sight. But this...whatever it was could easily follow the Red Lion’s upward path toward the far-distant Castle of Lions. And it could see the thick cluster of Empire fighters headed right for them as she streaked through the center of the battlefield.

 

Yellow roared and Hunk didn’t hesitate. He punched up the controls for the mouth cannon and let loose a massive blast toward the attacking ships that ripped a hole through their ranks, then a second that finished off most of that cluster. Then Red was through the worst of the chaos, her ion boosters giving her speed that no Empire ship could ever hope to match, and the yellow paladin turned his attention to getting himself and his other two teammates home safely. 

 

The sense was a godsend, allowing him to feel the enemy ships coming before they emerged from the crush of battle to open fire on them. The first time he ordered Shiro to open fire on his three o’clock, he was met with confused hesitation and questions--but only for a moment before the dozen fighters emerged from the shadow of a debris cloud with their guns blazing as they dove toward the Black Lion. Shiro stayed silent after that, and followed Hunk’s instructions to protect himself. Lance started to speak, once, then cut himself off before Hunk could even begin to guess what he might have been trying to ask. From the tone, however, he suspected his friend was wondering about Pidge. He knew the other two would have seen her cradled in Keith’s arms as they made their mad dash for the Lions.

 

The moment Yellow’s claws hit the hangar floor, the call was already going out over the coms for the resistance forces to retreat. Reinforcements had been sighted and would be here within minutes. It took only moments for the Alteans standing by at the teleduv controls on each ship to power up, and the enemy reinforcements were still hot spots of life on the far edge of Hunk’s ability to sense them by the time the view outside the hangar changed from distant stars and retreating Icebringer fighters to the swirling indigo of a wormhole.

 

Hunk sagged in his chair, pulling his helmet off and wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. They had made it. Or at least, he and Shiro and Lance and Keith had. Without thinking, he reached out again, mentally searching for Human life signs in the hangar amid the press of bodies just starting to leave the Lions. He easily found one...two...three...and after a few more seconds’ searching, four. Shiro, Lance, Kurogane, and Alejandro. He allowed himself a sigh of relief at that. Those two had lost enough without one of them losing the other as well.

 

With that sharp reminder, he reached deeper into the Castle, looking for the signatures of the medics who had been brought over for the fight to be ready to treat the non-critical injuries among the infiltration teams. In the nearly-empty ship, they were easy to sense and he found them almost at once. And off to one side of them, an Altean that must have been Coran, and a full and half-Human close together. Keith and Matt.

 

For a brief moment, his heart seemed to seize up in his chest as he tried and failed to sense the weak, flickering lifesign that had been Pidge as he’d last sensed her. No. Please no. They couldn’t have been too late. They couldn’t have lost her.

 

Then he felt it, a third signature, so faint that it was nearly eclipsed by Keith and Matt right beside it. But it was there, and slowly, almost imperceptibly, it was stabilizing.

 

A sob tore itself from Hunk’s throat and he buried his face in his hands. She was okay. She was going to make it. The sight of her on the floor of the maintenance closet burned behind his eyelids. She’d looked so small and so pale, with blood standing out in vibrant streaks on her skin...he didn’t think he’d ever forget it, no matter how hard he tried. Tears rushed down his cheeks as his chest heaved painfully with the force of his sobs. He wasn’t even sure why he was crying, knowing that she was safe, only that he couldn’t stop, could barely breath as he gasped for air between ragged cries. Yellow was rumbling in response to his distress, trying to calm him, but he could barely feel the Lion’s touch in his spinning head.

 

Unexpectedly, gentle hands wrapped around his and pulled them away from his face, but tears blurred his vision too much for him to make out more than a dark shape in front of him and if they were speaking, his pulse was roaring too loudly in his ears for him to make out the words. Then the same hands were quickly tugging off the chest plate of his armor to make it easier for him to breathe before one wrapped around him to rub slow, steady circles on his back, while the other ran long fingers through his sweat-damp hair. He buried his face gratefully into the person’s shoulder, clutching at their clothes desperately as he fought for control over his mind and body and let himself be gently rocked in their arms.

 

He wasn’t sure how long it took for the buzzing in his ears to subside enough for him to recognize the sound of someone singing softly in his ear. Lance. The Cuban was singing in flowing Spanish, a tune that he’d mentioned once he would often use to help his younger siblings or cousins when they were upset or scared or sick, and that he’d used to help Hunk a couple of times both back at the Garrison and out here in space when things got to be too much and breathing exercises weren’t helping enough. His familiar voice was immensely comforting as the blue paladin slowly brought Hunk out of his breakdown.

 

If Lance noticed that Hunk was now aware of his presence, he gave no sign of it, continuing to rock the yellow paladin gently as the words rolled easily off his tongue. Hunk closed his eyes again and focused on pacing his breathing to the rise and fall of the song the way Lance had showed him the first time he’d done this. Little by little the full-body trembles reduced to a slight shaking in his hands and the ringing in his ears faded away to nothing. Even his breathing had mostly evened out by the time the blue paladin finally stopped singing, easing back a bit to regard him worriedly. “Better?”

 

“...Yeah.” Better. Not good, not by a long shot, but better than he had been before.

 

“Good.” Lance’s relieved smile didn’t quite hide the creases of anxiety around his blue eyes, or the restless fidgeting of his hands adjusting his armor once he finally pulled back from the embrace. “You okay to go see Pidge?”

 

Hunk drew in a shaky breath. That sense, whatever it had been, it seemed to have finally stopped, had told him she was still alive and probably in a healing pod. But he needed to see her with his own eyes, to be sure. “Yes. Please.” He whispered.

 

“Okay. Come on, buddy, let’s go.” He accepted Lance’s help in getting to his feet, still more unsteady than he realized after the way his breakdown had drained him. “The others already went on ahead, but I had a feeling you needed me.” The blue paladin slung a supportive arm around his waist, guiding him toward Yellow’s ramp with an occasional sideways glance to check that he was still doing alright.

 

Hunk felt a deep surge of gratitude. “Thanks, man. I did. I couldn’t…” He hated breaking down like that, and they could and did go on for hours if no one was there to help him come out of it. That Lance had come to help him even though he must have been worried for Pidge and wanting to reassure himself that she would be alright spoke volumes to what kind of person the blue paladin was, and just how lucky Hunk was to have him as a friend. He took a deep breath. “Thanks.”

 

Lance gave him another small smile as they stepped out onto the hangar floor. “Anytime, buddy. Come on, let’s go see how she’s doing.”


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: graphic description of an injury, lots of feelings
> 
> As promised, Saturday updates for the next little bit. The first part of the section I'm working on went quickly, but the rest is being difficult.
> 
> Also! I said it on vldaspect but I'll say it here too: chapters 26-30 were written in their entirety BEFORE Keith's vlog dropped. Any resemblance is coincidental but awesome.

As they walked, Lance studied his friend worriedly. The yellow paladin was still pale, and shakier than he liked, but that wasn’t surprising after such a severe breakdown. He’d seen Hunk have breakdowns a few times before, usually when he’d forced himself to push through a high-stress situation without being able to manage his anxiety properly, but this was the worst one Lance had ever seen. Even the one after they’d fought Zarkon hadn’t been this bad, even with all of them exhausted from the fight and frantic over Shiro’s disappearance.

 

A cold spike of dread curled in his gut. How badly was Pidge hurt, then, that Hunk was this messed up about it? He’d seen Green and Red snarling and trying to smash through the stone and metal over the underground complex, but Red had done the same thing at the Blade headquarters when Keith had undergone the Trials, and his injuries hadn’t been that severe. She’d even been known to chase after her paladin when he wasn’t hurt at all, merely in trouble (again), so Lance hadn’t taken their behaviour that seriously, something he was regretting now. The blue paladin knew that Hunk had had to go and help their two teammates, that Keith had carried Pidge out of Trepan Kev, but he hadn’t gotten more than a glimpse of any of them before Keith was inside his Lion and Red was burning atmosphere toward the Castle. He’d wanted to ask what had happened, but the yellow paladin’s tone as he took the lead on the return flight made him hesitate, the way it was steady and commanding without a hint of fear. Hunk never normally sounded like that.

 

It was why he’d headed straight for Yellow as soon as they landed. He’d known that breakdown was coming probably before Hunk did.

 

He still didn’t dare ask. The last thing he wanted was to push his friend’s anxiety levels back up again by making him think about it, and he’d find out once they got to the medical area anyway. Right now he needed to focus on helping Hunk ride out the last of his shakiness and watch in case the other needed to be sick as they made their way slowly through the corridors. Thankfully, he didn’t, and by the time they reached the cryo-replenisher room Hunk was steadier on his feet and his colour was better, much to Lance’s relief. Unfortunately, it only lasted until the doors whirred open in front of them and they caught sight of the rest of their friends clustered around the healing pod that contained their teammate.

 

The green paladin floated in the pod, eyes closed and her hair drifting slightly around her face in the energy currents that cast a sickly greenish tinge over her pale skin. She was still dressed in her damaged undersuit and most of her armor, all except the helmet that Keith was clutching to his chest like a lifeline. Lance wondered for a moment why Coran hadn’t taken the time to change her into the white medical suit or even strip off the armor before placing her in the pod, before his gaze landed on her torso and he felt the blood drain from his face in horror. Something, a blaster by the look of it, had ripped a bloody chunk out of her side just where the bottom edge of the breastplate angled upwards, exposing torn muscle and the fractured curve of a rib in the deep, ugly gash. The blue paladin swallowed hard, trying not to be sick. Whatever he’d expected, this was way worse than anything he could have imagined.

 

Taking a hesitant step forward, he glanced uncertainly at the others. Keith was off to one side, his head bowed and his face hidden by the hair that hung around his face. He didn’t seem to be injured himself, but the way his trembling arms wrapped tightly around Pidge’s helmet and the way he stood deliberately apart from the rest of the team gave away that he was far from okay. Judging by Shiro’s worried glances toward the red paladin, though, Keith was already shutting them out and Lance made a mental note to talk to the other teen first chance he got.

 

An obviously shaken Shiro’s attention was split between his brother, shaken and distant, and his boyfriend, wrapped in the black paladin’s arms as he whispered quiet reassurances to the younger. Matt’s face was hidden in Shiro’s shoulder, but Lance could see the way his shoulders shook as he muffled his sobs against the older man’s chest. The blue paladin couldn’t even imagine what it must have been like for the older Holt sibling when Keith had arrived with a bloody, injured Pidge in his arms. The thought of going through something like that with one of his own younger siblings, nevermind the fact that Pidge was as good as a sister to him now...He quickly shook his head to drive away the mental images, trying to focus his attention on how the rest of his team was handling it. People were stressed enough without him giving himself an anxiety attack imagining things that weren’t going to happen.

 

Alejandro and Kurogane seemed to be handling the situation best compared to everyone else, although that wasn’t saying much. Both were pale and still wide-eyed as they talked in quiet undertones to each other, standing shoulder to shoulder to reassure each other with the contact. Every so often they would glance up, seeming to study Pidge as she rested in the pod, and as Lance watched Alejandro reached up to trace careful fingers over the scars that marred the side of Kurogane’s head.

 

The two Alteans took Lance a moment to locate. Finally he spotted them on the far side of the room with a couple of Icebringer medics. All four were conversing quietly while Coran programmed one of the pods for its occupant. Only then did the blue paladin realize that all the cryo-replenishers were in use, quietly working away on the worst injuries among those who had fought today. He caught a glimpse of severe burns on the Altean in the pod nearest him and quickly turned away again, swallowing hard as he groped for Hunk’s hand in mutual support.

 

A moment later Coran finished programming the pod, dismissing the control screen with a wave of his hand. A few more words were exchanged, then the medics slipped out of the room to rejoin their colleagues while the advisor and the Princess made their way back over to join those gathered around Pidge’s pod. Their faces showed deep weariness, but were otherwise calm.

 

“She’s going to be alright.” Were the first words out of Coran’s mouth as he approached, and Lance felt his entire body sag with relief so intense he thought he might cry.

 

The older Altean stepped up to the side of the pod beside Kurogane and brought up the monitor screens, scrolling through the displayed information with a flick of his finger. “It was close, I’ll admit, but we got her into the cryo-replenisher in time. I expect she’ll be out in about three rotations, once the damage is repaired.” He tweaked his moustache thoughtfully. “It would be longer, but oddly, the wound looks as though it’s already undergone some partial healing.”

 

“Partial healing?” Shiro lifted his head in surprise, confusion written across his features as he studied the injury for a moment. “How did that happen?”

 

Coran shrugged helplessly, but Alejandro cleared his throat, lifting a hand. “I think I know.” He said quietly. “She got the aspect finally. Curiosity and courage for the healing touch. Right Keith?” He looked over at the dark-haired teen expectantly.

 

The red paladin jerked slightly at the sound of his name, lifting his head to nod slightly. Lance caught a glimpse of red-rimmed eyes and frowned. He’d imagined those signs of past tears, surely. Keith never cried. But then again, seeing the way Hunk had been...and Keith had been with Pidge when it happened. He had every right to be a mess.

 

Alejandro smiled tiredly, looking relieved. “I thought so. I’ve seen an injury look like that before, partly fresh wound and partly healed tissue, back when our Holt got that aspect. It’s not pretty, but it gets the job done.” He glanced sideways at his partner, then tilted his head curiously. “I don’t suppose you know what it was that did it, for her to unlock it?”

 

Keith shook his head, a single sharp jerk of negation, and wound his arms tighter around the helmet. Whatever had happened down there he obviously didn’t want to talk about it just yet, and all the attention directed his way was obviously making him uncomfortable. “Shouldn’t you already know how to unlock it?” Lance asked quickly in a bid to divert their attention from the uncomfortable red paladin, tilting his own head to the side. “I mean, you guys got three of them between you. You never mentioned how.”

 

Running a hand through his hair, his older counterpart sighed. “You’d think that, but we don’t. We know what was happening each time we got one, but aside from my combative characteristic, we don’t really know what it was, what thoughts or emotions, that was actually the key to unlocking them.”

 

“Well, how did you get the combative characteristic, then?” If he knew that, maybe he could do something similar. Blue’s extra maneuvering thrusters would be useful against enemies like that robeast they’d fought when he got the Heart aspect.

 

He was met with a sad smile. “I know what you’re thinking, but I got that one after we lost the Castle of Lions, when I ordered everyone back to the Long Wind. I knew there was nowhere else for us to go, but we’d be safe and with friends among the Icebringers.”

 

“He kept his head and got us out of there to safety while the rest of us were too shaken to think straight.” Kurogane put in softly, fixing his partner with a proud look that made the taller man blush. “Only once he’d got us all on board and talked to Shiiar’keh about living there permanently did he let himself break down over everything.”

 

Okay. Definitely not duplicating that, then. But Lance couldn’t help but be impressed by his older self’s strength of will. He must have been falling apart inside all through that, with Yellow and Hunk lost in the same fight, but he’d still gotten his friends to safety before anything else. He gave Alejandro a deep nod of respect. “What about the other two, then?”

 

Kurogane shrugged. “I got the the personality aspect for passion and respect when I pulled us out of a fight. We were outclassed and would’ve gotten ourselves killed. Not sure what it was about that that did it, but it got us out of there. As for Holt, I wasn’t exactly conscious for that.” He grimaced, one hand going to the scars on the side of his head, and Lance abruptly realized what Alejandro must have been talking about when he said he’d seen a partly healed wound before.

 

“You weren’t just unconscious, you were  _ dead _ .” Alejandro bit out, sounding pained. Kurogane quickly put an arm around his partner pulling him close and pressing a kiss to his temple as the former blue paladin let out a shuddering breath. “Holt was doing CPR and screaming at him that he wasn’t allowed to die when she hadn’t even gotten to see us married yet. Then there was this green flash and he was breathing again, just like that, and not bleeding so much.” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “He was still hurt badly, but he was alive.”

 

“But Katie’s the one who got hurt this time.” It was Matt who spoke this time, his voice strained and rough. Shiro tightened his arms comfortingly around Matt’s shoulders, even as the ginger turned to face them properly. His eyes were red and puffy with tear trails still fresh on his cheeks, and he wiped his nose roughly with his sleeve. “Not Keith” He chewed on his lip unhappily. “Is needing to treat a major injury the common factor for that aspect, do you think?”

 

Kurogane shook his head firmly, giving the other man a look of sad understanding. “I don’t think that’s it. Of the three we knew we got, that was the last one to be unlocked, and there’d been plenty of major injuries amongst us before. If that was all it took, she probably would have got it when Alejandro lost his legs. There must be something else. But until we know more about what happened down there…” He shot Hunk a hopeful look.

 

Lance turned to look at his friend as well, but the yellow paladin was already shaking his head. “It happened before I reached them.” He explained quietly, casting an unhappy glance toward the pod and the unconscious form of Pidge. “Keith told me it happened over the com when I was trying to get to them, but I don’t know what actually happened. Just that she was hurt really bad, then she managed to activate it and passed out.” He shrugged helplessly. “Sorry guys.”

 

Shiro adjusted his hold on Matt and reached over to put a reassuring hand on Hunk’s shoulder. “It’s okay, Hunk. You’ve got nothing to apologize for there.” He sighed, glancing at the pod again. “Let’s just be grateful that you heard Keith calling for help and were able to get to them and get them out of there, okay? You saved Pidge’s life, and that’s something to be proud of.”

 

The yellow paladin managed a shaky smile and nodded in response to the statement. “Right. Yeah, okay. Thanks, Shiro.” He took a deep breath, turning to regard their injured teammate. “I just wish it hadn’t taken me so long to get to them, y’know?” A flicker of guilt crossed his face, his fists clenching at his sides, and he looked away. “I kept...trying to get around the patrols instead of just shooting them with my bayard, and it was taking so long, Pidge could’ve…” He faltered swallowing hard, and Lance put a hand on his friend’s back to comfort him.

 

“But she didn’t, Hunk. You got to her in time.” Shiro’s voice was firm but gentle, forestalling the younger man’s mounting anxiety. “Don’t think about what could have been. Right now let’s just focus on the fact that we’re all here. We all got out alive, including Pidge.” He lifted his head and surveyed his team. “It’s late, and we need to try to get some rest. We can talk about this more in the morning.”

 

________

 

The curved side of the cryo-replenisher was hard against Keith’s back as he leaned against it, his knees tucked to his chest. He knew he should be sleeping right now, the Castle’s lighting had dimmed for the night hours ago leaving only the green glow of the active pods to light the room, but he couldn’t. Every time he closed his eyes he saw that maintenance closet in Trepan Kev. Saw Pidge.

 

A slight shuffling sound in the quiet of the room startled him and he glanced over his shoulder. The others were sound asleep, curled shoulder to shoulder in the nest of blankets and pillows they’d transferred here from the observation lounge. None of them wanted to be too far from their injured teammate right now, as well as being close to the others, and it had taken some of them a while to be able to relax enough to sleep, but eventually every one of them had succumbed to their exhaustion and drifted off. Peering around the curve of the pod, though, Keith realized that Lance was awake. The blue paladin had propped himself up on one elbow and was looking around blearily, rubbing at his eyes.

 

Keith expected his teammate to flop back down and go right back to sleep. But then Lance seemed to catch sight of him and frowned, blinking tiredly. A moment later the lanky teen was on his feet and picking his way carefully past Shiro’s awkwardly-placed arm and Allura’s wayward hair to come around to the far side of the pod where the red paladin sat. He slid down the side of the pod with a soft sigh, crossing his legs in front of him with the clear intention of staying a while.

 

Tucking his legs tighter to his chest and ducking his head, Keith tensed in anticipation of questions. ‘Why are you awake’, ‘are you okay’, ‘do you want to talk about it’. He took a deep breath. Then another. Then he lifted his head to glance in confusion at the other boy sitting in calm silence next to him, the only sound in the room the hum of machinery and the soft breathing of their friends from the other side of the pod. After several seconds of Lance gazing around the dimly-lit room and playing with a loose thread on the cuff of his shirt, the red paladin looked away again to rest his chin on his knees. The tension in him dropped a little, and he allowed himself to appreciate the silent company of the other paladin, as unexpected as it was nice.

 

He wasn’t sure how long they sat like that, Lance sitting silently and Keith letting the events of that afternoon play through his head again and again as he stared out unseeing at the darkness around them. Two teammates injured. Two teammates dead. A third sacrificed to cover them. Then a fourth. Running. Pidge hurt. Pidge dying. And him, unable to do a damn thing about any of it. His breath hitched in spite of himself, loud in the silence around them.

 

“It was really bad down there, huh.”

 

Lance’s words, although he’d kept his voice low out of deference for the sleepers nearby, still carried clearly in the quiet of the room, making Keith jerk his head up to look at him. The blue paladin was watching him with an unhappy frown, one hand playing with his bare toes. “Down in Trepan Kev, I mean.” He added, as if that point needed clarification. “I’ve never seen you  _ or _ Hunk this messed up. Not that I blame you, though.” The blue paladin tipped his head backwards, looking up at the pod behind them. Copying the motion, Keith could just see tufts of messy ginger hair floating above the solid back of the pod. “You guys have every right to be really not okay after something like that. All three of you.”

 

_ It’s okay to not be okay _ . Shiro had said the same thing to him once, years ago, when he’d been overwhelmed by the pressure of the Garrison’s expectations and not fitting in and three new sets of foster guardians in less than two months, one of whom he never even got to meet before they were passing him up the line to the next. He hadn’t slept in three days, crashed what should have been an easy sim, screamed at his caseworker, and Shiro had found him hyperventilating into a pillow in his trashed dorm room. The older boy, instead of lecturing him for the mess or expressing disappointment for the mistakes, had simply sat down with him, helped him get his breathing under control, and listened as Keith fought for words to explain the stresses he barely understood himself. And after it all, the man who had eventually become his brother had reassured him that it was okay to be angry, to be scared. To hurt.

 

“I couldn’t do anything.” The words slipped out of him almost before he realized it, startling them both. But here in the darkness of the cryo-replenisher room with Lance, he felt that same sense of warmth and understanding as he had that day with Shiro, that right now in this little bubble of safety he could give voice to his tumbling thoughts and not be judged.

 

“I couldn’t do anything.” He repeated. That had been the worst part, even more than the knowledge that he’d failed to protect her, that they were trapped, was the sheer helplessness he’d felt at the situation. That his sister, someone he’d finally allowed himself to see as the family he’d never had, was suffering, and he couldn’t do anything to stop it. “She was hurting and scared and  _ I couldn’t do anything _ .”

 

He felt Lance shift closer, their shoulders not quite brushing, and the other’s gaze was a quiet weight on him. Patient and attentive, but not expecting anything from him.

 

His gaze was far away as he spoke. “There was so much blood, and she was so scared. I’ve never seen her scared like that. Lance, she--I--we both thought she was going to  _ die _ .” His eyes burned and he rubbed at them roughly with the back of his hand; it came away wet. “We thought she was going to die there, and she didn’t want to die.” A shuddering breath. “She told me she wanted to go home.” 

 

That sentence seemed to hang in the still air between them. Keith knew Lance would understand the weight of those words, coming from the one member of their team who had been more driven than any of them to continue onwards and outwards in search of her missing family. She’d found them, finally, but still the words had never once crossed her lips before now. A heavy warmth settled across his shoulders as Lance put an arm around him, tugging him against his side. “God, Keith…”

 

“She wanted to see her mom, and tell off Iverson.” The words were coming more easily now, even as the guilt twisted painfully inside him. “She wanted to get to know all of us better, and see the universe, and grow up, and fall in love. There was so much she wanted to do that she thought she’d never get the chance to, and I couldn’t even tell her that it was going to be okay. I couldn’t comfort her, or promise I was going to get her out of there. All I could do was sit there and hold her and listen.” The tears were falling openly now, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Lance wouldn’t judge. He’d said it was okay. But he’d been so helpless, so unable to do anything for his friend, for his  _ sister _ , when she’d needed him the most. They’d both thought she was going to die, and there was nothing he could do, not even find the words to lie and tell her it would be alright.

 

“No, Keith.” Lance’s voice was soft but firm, and the red paladin found himself being pulled against the other teen’s chest, able to hide his tears from the world in the soft white shirt. Strong arms wrapped around him, supporting and protecting. “What you did was important. You were  _ there _ . When she thought it was the end, she wasn’t alone. She had family with her, someone who cared about her. She had you.”

 

Keith hiccupped and buried his face in the blue paladin’s shoulder, tangling his fingers in the other’s shirt. How could Lance sound so sure that he’d been any good at all, when all he’d been able to do was watch Pidge fading away in his lap, her life draining out onto the floor?

 

“You were there, and you didn’t leave.” Lance was saying in his ear as he brought one hand up to stroke Keith’s hair gently. “You didn’t let her be scared alone. You think you didn’t comfort her, but you did.”

 

Slowly, the guilt in his chest uncoiled just a little at the other’s words, letting him draw air into his lungs just a little easier. Lance understood people better than Keith did, better than anyone Keith had ever met. If he said Keith had helped just by being there, then maybe, just maybe, he hadn’t completely failed Pidge down there, when he couldn’t find a way out or the words of reassurance that seemed to come so easily to people like Shiro and Lance.

 

The blue paladin ran gentle fingers through his hair, the gesture surprisingly soothing as he carefully worked out a few tangles. “And you did get her out of there. You kept trying to call for help, which I know isn’t easy for you, so good job on that. And once Hunk got to you you got her out of there fast, both of you together, and you and Red got her to the Castle. You saved her, Keith, you and Hunk and Red. She’s safe, and she’s gonna be okay, and that’s thanks to you, because you don’t give up and you put everything you have into what you’re doing, especially when it’s to protect.”

 

Keith felt his cheeks warm unexpectedly at the praise, grateful that his face was still hidden in Lance’s shoulder. He hiccupped again, turning his head a bit to rub at his eyes. “Got your shirt all wet.” He mumbled apologetically. There was a large damp patch in the fabric where his tears had soaked right through.

 

That got a soft laugh, and a pat on the head. “Totally okay. You aren’t the first, and you won’t be the last. Heck, you’re not even the first one today.” Lance adjusted their positions slightly, tucking Keith back against his side with one arm cupping the back of his head gently, letting the red paladin rest his head in the crook of his shoulder. “Comfy?”

 

He nodded, leaning against the warm body beside him as exhaustion crept up on him. Between the mission and the fear and guilt that had followed, he felt wrung out and drained, without the energy to be embarrassed that Lance had seen him cry or flustered that the other had cradled him in his arms (and wasn’t  _ that _ just a bit of irony right there). In spite of himself, his eyes began to slip closed.

 

“Rest, Keith.” He heard Lance whisper softly. “You’re not alone either. Never again.”

 

His last conscious thought before sleep claimed him was that maybe he should think about what he wanted to do with his life too while he still could.

 

________

 

Shiro roused as the lights came up to their daytime brightness, rolling slightly onto his back and blinking up at the unfamiliar ceiling. For a moment, confusion and disorientation bred fear before he caught sight of one of the healing pods across the room and the events of the day before came rushing back. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, steadying himself to face the day. After yesterday, things were a long way from okay. He’d need to be strong to get them all through this.

 

Gently disentangling himself from Matt’s clinging grip, he sat up slowly and looked around. Coran was also up and already on his feet, moving to check the status of the patient in the first cryo-replenisher. When he noticed the black paladin looking, the Altean gave a nod and a tired smile of greeting before returning to his work.

 

Allura was still asleep behind him, curled on her side with her back towards him. Peering over, Shiro realized there was an unlocked data tablet resting under her hand. He chuckled as he noticed that she’d fallen asleep in the middle of writing something, and her fingers had left pages full of a repeated Altean letter as they sat on the screen’s keyboard. He reached out and gently moved her hand and locked the tablet before it added even more.

 

On his other side, Matt’s face was slack with sleep, although his fingers twitched restlessly and there were fresh tear tracks below his long eyelashes. It had taken him a long time to fall asleep, with the older Holt getting up repeatedly to check the pod’s screens and reassure himself that Pidge was healing properly and occasionally finding fresh tears on his cheeks. Eventually, though, Shiro had managed to get him to settle in his arms and soothed him into a fitful sleep. Hopefully he’d rest a while longer yet before he had to face the reality of having come so close to losing his beloved sister just after finding her again.

 

Beyond Matt, there was a gap in the line, a rumpled blanket and pillow laying abandoned next to the sleeping forms of Hunk, Alejandro, and Kurogane. Shiro frowned. That was where Lance had been sleeping. It wasn’t like the blue paladin to be up early unless he’d had a nightmare, and surely even with how tired they all were they’d have been woken up by that?

 

Looking around, he realized Keith was nowhere to be seen either. Not surprising, given how anxious and closed off the red paladin had been after the mission yesterday, but concerning for the same reason. Hopefully he hadn’t been training himself into exhaustion all night, but it seemed the most likely scenario. Training and exercise had always been one of the ways Keith coped with emotions he didn’t know how to handle, the current form of coping methods that had once manifested as getting into fights or occasional destructiveness. Shiro sighed, carefully pushing himself to his feet with care not to disturb Matt or Allura.

 

Once upright, he turned to study Pidge in her healing pod. Her colour was already looking better, he was relieved to see, and the wound was closing slowly. “Come back to us soon, kiddo.” He murmured, placing a hand on the glass for a moment. As he turned to leave, he caught a glimpse of white sticking out from behind Pidge’s pod and stopped. Was that Keith’s boot? Stepping carefully past Hunk, he walked around the curve of the pod, only to stifle laughter at what he found.

 

Keith and Lance were both sitting slumped against the back of the pod, fast asleep. The red paladin was nestled against his teammate’s shoulder, head curling into the crook of the other’s neck, while Lance’s arm was wrapped around Keith’s shoulders in an unmistakably protective hold. At some point, Lance’s free hand had found one of Keith’s and laced their fingers together, their joined hands hanging between them.

 

Shiro noted the dried tear tracks on Keith’s cheeks and gave a soft sigh of relief. So Lance had managed to get him to open up, then. That was good, for a lot of reasons. Keith was so slow to trust, after everything he’d been through, but it looked like the blue paladin was slowly winning his way through his walls.

 

Shaking his head with a soft smile, the black paladin retrieved Lance’s blanket and tucked it around the sleeping pair to ward off the cool air in the room. Maybe today would be a bit better than he’d thought.


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No warnings for this chapter.
> 
> Good news, guys. I finished writing that section I was working on (three chapters, each one binge-written faster than the one before). So we're now going back to the old 'finish a chapter, post a chapter' schedule, and I'll be posting a bonus chapter in a couple days to celebrate and bring the editing buffer back down to 4 chapters.

Allura groaned wearily as she sank down onto a cushion, running her fingers through her messy hair and grimacing as they caught on tangles and knots. She was unquestionably a mess, and the only consolation was that Shiiar’keh had looked similarly rumpled over the com screen. Thankfully, as her father once told her with a bedraggled grin and mud all over his armor, after a certain amount of fighting together one was permitted to let diplomatic presentability fall by the wayside in favour of Getting Things Done.

 

“Thank you, Coran.” She gave the older Altean a grateful smile as he passed her a bowl of rations. During the varga she’d been gone, the paladins had awoken and gathered in a loose circle at the foot of Pidge’s cryo-replenisher for breakfast. That even Hunk had contented himself with plain goo, rather than mixing in some of his stock of ingredients to reproduce the taste of Earth food, was a testament to the lingering toll their teammate’s injury had taken on all of them.

 

Coran returned the smile cheerfully. “Of course, Princess.” Adjusting his legs under him, he chewed a thoughtful mouthful of his own breakfast before speaking again. “What did Shiiar’keh have to say about the state of the packs that fought yesterday?”

 

The others looked over as well, equal parts curious and concerned. Allura set down her half-full spoon with a sigh. “About as well as can be expected. Three ships suffered major structural damages that will put them out of the fight for a few rotations while repairs are made. Casualties among the fighter pilots are slightly lower than expected, although it will take decarotations to repair all of the fighter craft that were damaged, and they will need to restock some of the necessary metals to supply all the parts, especially since the pack ships get priority.”

 

“What about the ground mission results?” Alejandro asked quietly, casting a sideways glance at Pidge’s pod.

 

“Of the twenty-two teams, four did not return from Trepan Kev at all.” She admitted, frowning at Matt’s sharp inhalation and guilty expression. “However, Matthew, Shiiar’keh feels that casualties could have been far worse without your recommendations regarding the composition of the teams. Of the one hundred and thirty-two Hunters who went into Trepan Kev, only forty-one did not return, which is far better than we had hoped for given the limited intelligence we had available to us and the military importance of the target. And aside from Pidge, only two other returning Hunters required a healing pod for their injuries. Most of the critical cases,” she nodded toward the circle of occupied cry-replenishers, “were amongst the fighter pilots, usually due to severely damaged craft crashing on landing in the hangar.” Matt subsided, cheeks darkening at the mention of his pack leader’s approval, while Shiro pulled his boyfriend against him and pressed a proud kiss to the side of his head, and Allura gave a small smile. Those two were good for each other.

 

“What about the data that was recovered?” Lance spoke up from his spot beside Keith, picking at his food anxiously. “How soon will we know where to find the Weblum’s Breath?”

 

“I am told the codebreakers began their work as soon as the first files were brought to them, but it’s going to take time to decrypt the files from each system and for the scouts to follow up on all the shipments in order to locate the weapon. Which reminds me, Keith, what happened to your team’s data tablet? I need to pass it on to the Icebringers for processing.”

 

Keith blinked in surprise at the question, then frowned, apparently trying to remember. After a moment, however, his eyes snapped wide and he whipped around to look up at Pidge with a groan of dismay. “She tucked it under her chest plate.” He explained unhappily. “It’s in the pod with her. There wasn’t time…” The red paladin faltered, looking down at his lap. Lance quickly reached over and put a comforting hand on his friend’s knee.

 

Allura nodded understandingly. “Don’t worry, Keith, I suspected that might be the case, under the circumstances. Given the quantities of data to be gone through, I doubt they’ll be done with the other seventeen tablets by the time Pidge has finished healing.” She combed her fingers through her hair again, tugging as they caught on a large knot almost immediately, and huffed in mild annoyance. “They can only do so much so quickly.”

 

There was a small noise of frustration from the blue paladin. “Stop, I’m getting a headache just watching you do that, Princess.” Rummaging around in the blankets near him, he produced a hairbrush and moved to sit behind her, pulling her hair away from her fingers without giving her a chance to protest. With quick, careful strokes he smoothed away the tangle before turning his attention to the rest of her hair. Allura felt her cheek markings brightening in embarrassment as the others made no effort to conceal their amusement.

 

“Just let him do your hair while you eat, Princess.” Kurogane advised with a chuckle. “It helps him de-stress, and there’s no stopping him once he decides someone needs to be fussed over. Right Shiro?” He grinned at the black paladin even as he elbowed Alejandro teasingly, his partner blushing brightly.

 

Shiro simply laughed and shook his head. “He gives good massages.” 

 

Allura sighed, but submitted to the not-unpleasant attentions as she picked up her breakfast once more. “That’s all I have to report for the moment, aside from the fact that our previous missions are obviously being put on hold while we rebuild our strength for dealing with the Weblum’s Breath. Shiro, did you have anything planned for the day?”

 

The black paladin shook his head firmly. “Recovery day today for all of us, unless someone has something specific they want to do?” He surveyed the group in case anyone wanted to speak up.

 

To both of their surprise, Hunk slowly raised a hand. “Actually...I’m gonna need some help with something.” He hesitated, repositioning the blankets around his legs. “I, uh, I got another aspect yesterday too.”

 

That brought a moment’s stunned silence to the group, followed by a cacophony of startled exclamations.

 

“Dude, really? Why didn’t you say anything?”

 

“Another one already? Congrats!”

 

“Way to go, Hunk.”

 

“Well done, my boy! Your progress is astounding!”

 

“Do you know which one?”

 

Over the heads of the others, Allura exchanged a startled look with Shiro. Another aspect already? That made four since the paladins had started actively trying to learn them just a couple decarotations ago, not counting Lance’s already-accessible Heart aspect, and the second for the yellow paladin in that time. Did such a rate of progress come naturally to paladins, or was it simply the circumstances they’d been put in lately, with two of them unlocking new skills under the strain of a mission gone wrong?

 

Hunk’s expression was oddly serious as he nodded in response to Kurogane’s question. “I think so. I’ve been thinking about it since yesterday, and I’m pretty sure what I accessed was the personality trait. Patience limited by understanding.” He quoted back Malrento’s phrasing from when the old Altean had first taught them about the aspects. “I didn’t get what he meant by that, before, with that weird wording, but I do now.”

 

He fidgeted a bit with the edge of the blanket, looking down at his hands. “...You guys know I hate killing, right? I mean, as much as the Empire are our enemies, their soldiers are still  _ people _ . I know we’re at war and everything, but it’s just…”

 

“We know, Hunk.” Shiro reassured quietly. “Trust me, I understand completely.” His prosthetic arm curled into a fist and Matt reached over to put his hand over it as he leaned his head against his boyfriend’s shoulder. 

 

Allura winced. Sometimes she forgot just how young the current paladins were, most of them sitting barely at the edge of adulthood. Pidge was still cycles away from being considered an adult by their people, and even Shiro and Matt were still finding their way into the role. But because the Lions had chosen them they’d been forced to the front lines of an intergalactic war, spending every day face to face with the sort of decisions most adults never had to face, let alone these lost children so far from home. They bore their burden with admirable strength, but the choices they were required to make and the things they had to do obviously affected them all far more deeply than they liked to admit.

 

Giving a small nod toward Shiro, Hunk took a deep breath and continued. “I...I wasn’t a good fit for the ground teams on that mission.” He admitted. “I should’ve said something, I know. I couldn’t make myself shoot anybody, knowing they weren’t sentries. Even when I was trying to get to Keith and Pidge, I kept trying to go around the soldiers and it wasn’t working. There were too many. And then Keith told me that if I didn’t get to them soon, Pidge was going to…” He swallowed hard as Alejandro wound a supportive arm around his shoulders.

 

It took the yellow paladin a moment to regain his composure, during which Lance joined his older self in silently supporting their friend. “...That’s where the whole patience and understanding part comes in, though. If I could have, I would have taken the time to go around the soldiers, so I didn’t have to kill them, but Pidge couldn’t wait. Somebody was gonna die one way or the other. You can’t...in war, you can’t save everyone, no matter how much you want to, but you can chose who you save.” There was a solemn silence in the room, everyone listening intently to Hunk’s words. Allura could see grim understanding on the faces of those around her, expressions that ranged from Lance’s reluctant acknowledgement as he looked away to Coran’s weary familiarity with the fact.

 

“So I chose to save Pidge.” He said abruptly. “I shot down one of the patrols, and that’s when the aspect kicked in.” He closed his eyes and rubbed at his temples as if to ward off a headache. “It was like...I can’t really describe it. Like I could sense where all the living things were in the base, relative to me. Groups of soldiers, other Icebringers, and Keith and Pidge. I wasn’t seeing them or anything like that, I just...knew where they were.”

 

“Is that how you found us?” Keith straightened. “I mean,  _ I _ didn’t even know where we’d ended up.”

 

Hunk nodded. “I could feel where you were. And how weak Pidge was, too.”

 

The red paladin grimaced in agreement, then blinked. “That’s how you kept knowing we were about to run into soldiers, too, isn’t it. You were firing around corners and I didn’t even know they were there.” He seemed grudgingly impressed, but also grateful.

 

“And the enemy fighters on the return flight?” The question came from Shiro, accompanied by a raised eyebrow.

 

“Yeah. I could feel the whole battlefield, from the fighters to the cruisers and pack ships. It was a lot less confusing than trying to scan for threats visually in all that mess, I gotta be honest.”

 

Allura’s sensitive ears twitched as she caught a faint whisper, and her eyes slid to Kurogane and Alejandro. The former had rested his head on his partner’s shoulder, watching Hunk with an oddly intense expression as he murmured to Alejandro. “...at the Balmera. You don’t think…?”

 

“It would explain it. God knows nothing else did.” The former blue paladin murmured back. “We’ll never know, though.” He sighed and gave a slight, sad shake of his head.

 

It took her a moment to realize what they were discussing. Their own timeline’s Hunk, who had died trying to save citizens on the Balmera even as the Empire’s Druids had drained the life from the planet. The two had mentioned during their recounting of their own timeline that at the moment the giant beast had gone into its death throes, the yellow paladin had been deep inside the cave systems trying to reach a group that the scanners had missed but that he had somehow been aware of. Could it have been the same aspect their Hunk had just discovered that guided that version of Hunk to those trapped people?

 

As the others settled into a discussion of how best to go about testing Hunk’s new ability, which Lance had promptly dubbed ‘BLIP-sense’ after its similarity to the result produced by the sensors, Allura couldn’t help but wonder if there might be other aspects that the paladins had used, in either timeline, without ever knowing what they had.

 

_________

 

“I thought I might find you here.”

 

Alejandro didn’t look over as Kurogane moved carefully across the wet deck to sit cross-legged beside him, his gaze instead trained upwards on the reflections of ripples that flickered across the low ceiling as he swung the stump of his right leg idly through the water. It was cool and soothing and comfortingly familiar. If he closed his eyes, he could pretend he was in the water anywhere in the universe. The Castle of Lions. Hylath. Or even Veradero Beach.

 

What did Veradero Beach’s water feel like? He couldn’t remember anymore.

 

Something of his train of thought must have showed in his face, or maybe Kurogane could just read him like a book after all these years, because a set of knuckles suddenly rapped sharply against the side of his head and startled him. “Hey. Out of your head, ‘lejo. You came up here to unwind, not tie yourself in more knots.” Although the tone was playfully scolding, Alejandro could hear the undercurrent of concern in his partner’s voice.

 

Grimacing, the former blue paladin slouched back against the edge of the pool. “I know, I know. I’m trying. My mind keeps running away from me today.” He huffed out a frustrated breath.

 

Kurogane hummed understandingly. “I thought so. That’s why I thought you might be here.” He shifted sideways so he was directly behind the young man in the water. “Lay back.”

 

Obediently, Alejandro closed his eyes and tipped further back, letting his head drop onto his partner’s lap and spreading his limbs until he was floating in an uneven starfish on the surface of the water. Kurogane was both cushion and anchor for his head, and gentle fingers combed short brown hair in a soothing rhythm. Once he was settled, he began taking slow, measured breaths and concentrated on the feel of the water against different parts of his body.

 

It was an old stress-management trick they’d developed years ago. Back when he’d lost his legs, as part of his healing the Icebringers had brought him here, to the Long Wind’s water deck. It was a large, open space, like a pool except that parts of it led into the maze of watery chambers that housed the various water-dwelling species aboard, and with many submerged ledges and platforms at various depths. It served a variety of functions, from access into the aquatic sections of the ship to a recreational area to, most importantly among people that had no access to healing pods, a place where hydrotherapy could take place for those recovering from combat injuries or the abuses they’d suffered as prisoners. It was in that last capacity that Alejandro--or Lance, as he’d still been back then--was first introduced to this part of the ship.

 

It had been a bad time for the entire team. With Pidge grieving over the loss of her brother, Shiro wracked with guilt over Matt’s death and Lance’s injury, and Hunk desperately trying to help Allura and Coran hold the shell-shocked team together, Keith had been the rock for a terribly shaken and traumatized blue paladin as he tried to come to terms with the drastic change to his body. He had weathered panic attacks and frustrated tantrums without complaint, and spent a lot of time here on the water deck with him at all hours of the day. While they waited for his prosthetics to be built, in the water was the only place where Lance could be independently mobile, could feel like less of a useless cripple and deadweight and more like the person he’d been before, and Keith never protested when asked to bring carry him to that refuge or looked at him with the pity he hated so much.

 

Their relationship had been only a few months old at that point, still rocky and plagued with uncertainties on both sides. More than once Lance had melted down, insisting that Keith didn’t have to stay with him, that he shouldn’t be burdened with looking after a broken waste of space, and tried his best to push the red paladin away even though he was too scared, too miserable, too attached, and too in love to break it off himself. The other would simply shake his head and hold him close as Lance cried into his boyfriend’s shirt, petting his hair with the slight awkwardness that was always a part of the other teen. Lance had demanded to know why he stayed, and Keith’s cryptic answer had simply been “I don’t leave.” as he leaned down to press a gentle kiss to the blue paladin’s tear streaked cheeks.

 

He’d asked Shiro about that comment once, and seen guilt and sorrow flare across the older man’s face. “Keith doesn’t leave people. But he’s used to them leaving him.” He’d explained quietly. “As long as you never abandon him, he’ll hold onto you and never let go.”

 

After that, the long, painful weeks it had taken for Lance to heal physically and get back on his now-metal feet had solidified their relationship, taking it from something new and fragile and forging it into an iron bond that had stood firm ever since. Side-by-side or back-to-back, they had stayed together through loss after loss after loss, each serving as the other’s support and refuge against the pain. He didn’t know what he would have done without the other man as his partner. He doubted he would have survived.

 

Lips brushed softly against his, startling Alejandro out of the near-trance he’d fallen into from concentrating on the feel of the ripples against his skin. Opening his eyes, he saw Kurogane watching him upside down with a gentle smile curving his lips that involuntarily brought a matching one to Alejandro’s. “Better? You looked like you were thinking of something happier.”

 

“Mm. Thinking about how lucky I am to have you as my partner.” The tanned male shifted carefully to reach up and caress the other’s scarred cheek with one hand as it darkened with a blush. “What did I ever do to deserve someone as supportive and protective and loyal as you, Spitfire?”

 

Kurogane huffed, his face rapidly turning the same colour as the jacket he’d once worn. “Probably just by being your kind, accepting, loving self, Sharpshooter. Anyone would be lucky to have you.”

 

“I’m all yours, though. Only yours.” Alejandro wrapped one of the lock dark locks that framed his partner’s face around his fingers and tugged gently to pull him down for another kiss, this one long and slow and sweet.

 

“And I’m yours.” Kurogane murmured softly, breath warm against the former blue paladin’s lips as he pulled back. Alejandro sighed and stretched back out again in the water, turning his head slightly to nuzzle against the other’s leg affectionately and receiving an affectionate ruffle of his hair in return.

 

They stayed like that for a bit, listening to the water rippling against the edges of the pool until Alejandro found himself getting restless. Glancing up out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that the other man was staring into space and not paying much attention as one hand carded absently through his partner’s hair. He certainly didn’t seem to have noticed the former blue paladin staring up at him from his lap. Alejandro’s lips spread into a mischievous grin.

 

Without warning, he twisted upright and dove forward with a single powerful sweep of his arms. As he plunged under the surface he kicked hard with both stumps to send up a spray of water before switching to the full-body dolphin ripple that had him halfway across the pool in moments. When he surfaced and looked back, he couldn’t help but burst out laughing. Kurogane was drenched, wet clothes plastered to his skin and hair hanging in clumps around his face as he tried to wipe the water out of his eyes with a bewildered expression. He reminded the Cuban of a confused, waterlogged cat, and the mental image just made him laugh harder.

 

He was so busy trying to laugh and tread water at the same time, he didn’t see his partner’s face form a devilish grin as he caught sight of him. The dark-haired male quickly shucked off his wet clothing, stripping down to his boxers and jumping in after him. The splash did get Alejandro’s attention and he yelped, paddling away as fast as he could from his pursuer.

 

Kurogane wasn’t the strongest of swimmers--he hadn’t had many opportunities growing up, and Galra apparently didn’t do well in water regardless--but Alejandro’s handicap levelled the playing field considerably as they chased each other around the pool shrieking and laughing. Occasionally one would go off the end of an underwater platform unexpectedly and abruptly disappear beneath the surface, to come up spluttering and wiping hair out of their eyes as they blindly flailed away while the other gave chase. And a few times one of them wouldn’t see the side of a platform until they nearly ran into it, resulting in desperate underwater acrobatics with varying degrees of success.

 

Eventually Alejandro shamelessly took advantage of being more agile below the surface to grab Kurogane’s leg and pull him under, where he stole a kiss from the startled man before twisting away again and shooting through the water with a pull of his arms and flick of his hips, only to find himself being dragged back a moment later by a strong hand on his right knee, the former red paladin wrestling him close to steal a kiss of his own before breaking the surface with a gasp. The Cuban followed him up, laughing breathlessly, and leaned in to kiss him once more, tucking wet black hair back behind Kurogane’s remaining ear.

 

The other grinned, still breathing heavily from the activity, and bumped their foreheads together lightly. With lazy strokes he swam over to one of the shallowest platforms, only a couple inches of water between the smooth blue-white metal and the surface, and heaved himself up to sit on the edge. Alejandro followed and accepted the offered hand to help him up onto the platform as well, a pleased sigh escaping him as he opted to stretch out on his side in the warm, shallow water. Kurogane joined him after a moment, facing him with the side of his head propped in his hand. A broad smile twisted the scars on his cheek, and his face was flushed from exertion and his eyes were bright with happiness.

 

“Have I ever told you that I love your smile?” Alejandro asked quietly, admiring his partner’s face. Smiles, especially large ones like this, were so rare from his often-serious love, especially as their own timeline had worn on, and he treasured it whenever he had the opportunity to see one.

 

“Not as much as I love yours.” The dark-skinned man blushed as he felt callused fingers tracing his lips, his smile widening in spite of himself. Grabbing Kurogane’s hand, he kissed the tips of his fingers, then the palm. He was rewarded by a flustered noise and his partner shifting closer to put his arm over him, a warm, comfortable weight on his side.

 

They lay together for a while, Alejandro letting his hand wander over Kurogane’s skin as he traced familiar scars or ran his palm over the firm muscles that lay under the pale surface. Here in this peaceful place it always seemed as if the pain and struggle of the war against the Galra Empire was far away, unable to touch them, and yet the reminders were still there of the life they led, of the things they’d seen and done and felt.

 

Then Kurogane leaned in to capture his lips for another kiss. “As much as I’d love to just lay here forever with you, we should probably be getting back. I need to find some dry clothes, so I don’t have to eat my dinner soaking wet.”

 

The brown-haired male pouted and let out a soft whine of protest as he rolled onto his back. “Don’t wanna.” Leaving meant going back into the populated areas of the Long Wind, and back to the Castle. Two days after Trepan Kev, the tension was nearly unbearable with everyone waiting for something to happen. For Pidge to heal, for the computer specialists to finish breaking into the files, for the scouts to return from tracing the almathium shipments. For the other shoe to drop, one way or another. It was why he’d fled up here in the first place, everyone else’s nerves setting off his own.

 

“I know, sharpshooter. But we need to eat. And after that we can head back to our room if you still need quiet time.” Kurogane’s voice was gentle and understanding as he pushed himself upright, dark eyes regarding him affectionately.

 

“...No, I’ll probably be okay.” Alejandro sighed reluctantly as he propped himself up on his elbows and shook his head to get some of the water out of his hair. “And I want to be there for Pidge when she wakes up tomorrow.”

 

“I figured you would.” His partner agreed, sliding off the platform and back into the water. He stayed gripping onto the edge until Alejandro joined him, slow movements betraying how much he didn’t want to go just yet. “Come on. I’ll help you get your legs on.”

 

They paddled slowly across the pool, all earlier roughhousing forgotten, to the spot where Kurogane’s wet clothes lay scattered across the deck near Alejandro’s neatly-folded, dry pile with two gleaming prosthetics resting on top. The former red paladin climbed out first before turning to take Alejandro’s hand and help him out of the water once more, the dark male leaning on his hands for support once he was upright to balance out the missing limbs.

 

Kurogane reached for Alejandro’s pile and blinked. “You brought two towels?” He questioned, draping one over his own head before turning to attack his partner’s hair with the other, rubbing roughly until it stuck up in a hundred different directions.

 

Alejandro laughed, grabbing the towel away with one hand before trying to smooth his hair. “Of course. Knew you’d come after me.” He started patting himself down, starting with his legs so the prosthetics would grip properly when he put them on. “You always do.” He didn’t bother to hide the warmth of appreciation from his tone.

 

Snorting, the other started on his own hair. “Meaning you planned to soak me from the very beginning.” He complained, although Alejandro could hear the laughter and affection in his voice. “Sneak.”

 

“You know you love me.” He grinned, reaching for the smaller prosthetic. “Help?”

 

“Sometimes I wonder why.” Kurogane rolled his eyes but dropped his towel, taking the robotic limb while Alejandro leaned back on his hands. Practiced hands gently grabbed what was left of his right calf, the end capped with smooth, pale scar tissue, and guided it into the socket, which tightened automatically. He flexed the ankle and curled the toes experimentally before repositioning so his partner could do the same with his left thigh.

 

Mobility restored, he rolled to his feet and started getting dressed, slipping easily into the Altean tunic he’d once found so confusing. Now it was just nice to own clothes other than his worn-out paladin armor again.

 

Glancing over his shoulder, he chuckled. Kurogane was also dressed, and back to resembling a wet cat. His clothes were still visibly damp, and his hair dripped steadily despite his best efforts to wring it out.

 

“Come on, Spitfire. Let’s get back to the Castle and get you into something dry.” Alejandro grinned, looping his arm through Kurogane’s as they headed for the door.


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No warnings for this chapter.
> 
> And here's that bonus chapter I promised~

Matt’s anxious pacing was brought to an abrupt halt as he collided with Shiro’s chest. Before he could pull away, strong arms wrapped around him to hold him close. “Matt, calm down. You’re going to wear a hole in the floor, wreck your knee, or both. And Katie will kick both of our butts if I let you hurt yourself.”

 

“Just so long as she  _ can _ kick our butts.” Matt grumbled quietly, but allowed his boyfriend to lead him over to the rumpled pile of blankets and pillows on the floor near her pod. The taller man dropped down to sit cross-legged, but before the ginger could join him he was tugged off his feet with a yelp of surprise and into the other man’s lap. He could feel his cheeks burning and crossed his arms in mock indignation at the snickers from Lance and Alejandro as they looked up from their card game even as Shiro’s chin rested on top of his head. “ _ Rude _ , Takashi.”

 

The black paladin simply laughed and placed a kiss in his messy hair. “As your boyfriend, it’s my job to keep you from wearing out your leg with your pacing and in doing so, protect you from the wrath of overprotective sisters and packmates.” He said cheerfully.

 

“Takashi, I am twenty-three years old, I do not need to be mother-henned by you. You’ve been talking to Xel, haven’t you?”

 

“No, I’ve been talking to Coran, who says you keep waking up to check the pod status pretty much hourly during the night.” Matt shot a furious look at the unrepentant Altean. Traitor. 

 

He let out an irritated noise. “I’m fine, honestly. You know I don’t need a lot of sleep, so--”

 

“ _ Matt. _ ” Oh  _ vrekt _ . That was Takashi’s ‘I care about and I’m just worried for you’ voice that was totally unfair because it never, ever failed to make Matt melt and forget why he’d been so worked up in the first place. Muscular arms, one flesh and one metal, tightened around him. “She’s going to be okay, Matt. Really. Both you and Coran agree that according to the pod’s readings she’s nearly healed, and Hunk says her lifesigns are at the same strength as everyone else’s now.”

 

Matt deflated with a sigh, slumping back against the firm chest behind him. “I know that.” He said quietly, looking up at the cryo-replenisher where Katie still floated serenely. If it hadn’t been for the bloody streaks that still patterned her skin and armor and the pink newness of the large scar that showed through the hole in her undersuit, she could simply have been sleeping. “I do. But until she’s out and safe in my arms, it’s not...it doesn’t feel real until I can touch her. You know?”

 

“I know.” Fingers laced with his own, and he took a deep breath. “Just a few more hours to go.”

 

________

 

The pain seemed to vanish between one breath and the next, along with the numbness in her extremities, the tingling in her right hand, and the firm grip on her left. Instead there was a sense of coolness and floating that lasted just long enough for her to process the change before there was a soft whooshing noise all around her and she was tumbling forward into gentle arms that caught and supported her easily when her legs were late in responding to the task and didn’t seem up to the job anyway.

 

“Easy, Pidge, I’ve got you. Just take your time.”

 

Shiro. That was Shiro’s voice. But Shiro wasn’t supposed to be with her, just Keith. Had he come back for them? Her eyes flickered open and she immediately squinted in the bright lights that had replaced the darkness of the maintenance closet she’d been in. A wave of confusion and disorientation swept over her and she tightened her grip on Shiro’s arms. “Where…?” She faltered uncertainly.

 

“On the Castle, Pidge. You just came out of a healing pod.” Her leader’s voice was steady and soothing. Castle. Healing pod. That made sense. She’d been hurting and scared and everything was fading, and now she wasn’t. Her muscles didn’t seem to want to cooperate fully just yet, but that was normal after being in a pod, she’d been told. She remembered that much.

 

As her eyes adjusted, she recognized Shiro’s concerned face peering down at her, and Matt hovering anxiously by his shoulder. Her brother’s face lit up with relief the moment he saw her gaze focusing on him. “Come on, Katiebug. Let’s get you cleaned up.” He said gently, reaching to cup her cheek with one careful hand.

 

Cleaned up? She glanced down at herself and blanched. Her white-and-green armor was painted patchily with dried blood, as was her skin in places where it was exposed by the holes in the undersuit. She quickly averted her gaze and swallowed hard. Her memory was still a little shaky, but there was no questioning the implications of that much blood on her clothes and body. It was a wonder there’d been any left inside her.

 

Still unsteady on her feet, Pidge allowed the two men to guide her over to a small side room that turned out to be a bathroom, where Allura waited with a bucket of warm water and a neatly-folded set of clean clothes. “It’s good to have you back with us, Pidge.” She said softly as the green paladin settled onto a bench that seemed to be there for things like this. She managed a shaky nod as Shiro slipped out of the room to give her more privacy. But she couldn’t help but be relieved that Matt stayed, his presence soothing the lingering fear from before the pod that she couldn’t quite shake off as he set to work on stripping off her armor.

 

Something clattered to the floor when he pulled off her breastplate and Pidge jumped, looking down. A data tablet, the connecting cable still attached. That was the one she’d been using on the mission, wasn’t it? Why was it still here? Shouldn’t they have grabbed it before they put her into the healing pod?

 

Unless...there hadn’t been time.

 

She’d been put into the pod in her armor instead of a medsuit, with blood on her face and in her hair judging by Allura’s gentle attentions with the soft wet cloth in her hand. They hadn’t even grabbed the tablet from its hiding place. Apparently even the few seconds it would have taken to do that had been deemed too much of a delay. Combine those with her memories from before, and the scar she could now see through the hole in her suit...

 

The realization hit her hard, and her eyes went wide. “I almost didn’t make it, did I?” She whispered hesitantly, one unsteady hand coming up to cover the site of the injury. She could feel the wide ridge of scar tissue even through her gloves, a band of hard, discoloured flesh almost three inches across in places. She remembered the burning agony of it, and the warmth of her own blood under her hand, and felt sick to her stomach, dread crawling back into her chest.

 

The movements of the other two stilled for a moment at her words. Then, abruptly, she found herself crushed to her brother’s chest as he hugged her tightly. “You did make it, though. That’s what matters.” His voice was rough, muffled by her hair, and she could feel his hands shaking against her. “You made it and you’re safe and you’re alright.” Pidge could tell, though, from the way he clutched at her, how desperately afraid he must have been, and that was that. Her own remembered terror and despair surged back up her throat like a tidal wave and she abruptly burst into tears.

 

She clung to Matt with all her strength, sobbing into his shirt, and let herself be rocked and held and reassured that she was safe, that she was okay now, that he had her. Her cries were equal parts the fear that was still so fresh in her mind and desperate relief that she had, apparently, been rescued when it seemed impossible. After being in a healing pod her body wasn’t going to go into shock, but emotionally was another story entirely when for her the whole event seemed to have taken place only minutes earlier.

 

Eventually, though, the tears tapered off to sniffles and hiccups, and she freed one hand to swipe at her running nose with the back of her glove. Matt’s hold didn’t lessen any, however, and Pidge realized that he was crying as well even as he rocked her and murmured apologies into her hair. “I’m sorry, Katie, I’m so sorry. I should have been there to protect you. I’m sorry.”

 

“‘S not your fault.” She croaked, then cleared her throat and tried again. “Didn’t know this would happen.”

 

He pulled back slightly, gazing down at her with red-rimmed eyes and tear-streaked cheeks. “Doesn’t matter.” He said firmly. “I should have  _ been _ there, I’m your  _ brother _ .” His tone was raw with guilt.

 

“So’s Keith, and there was nothing he could do.” Pidge remembered the desperation and fear in the red paladin’s voice, the atmosphere of utter helplessness that seemed to fill the small, dark room. In an attempt to avoid thinking about it and get her emotions back under control she pushed away to sit up properly, accepting a wad of tissue from Allura to blow her nose with. “Thanks.”

 

“He got you out. Him and Hunk.” Matt shifted to sit beside her on the bench, keeping an arm around her protectively and blowing his own nose with the other hand.

 

That made her look up in surprise. “Hunk came for us? How did he know? How did he even find us?”

 

Allura chuckled, crouching down to start unfastening Pidge’s leg armor. “Yes, he was close enough that he heard Keith calling through the com interference, and when he got closer he was able to hear him just fine. Hunk was so determined to get to you in time he unlocked an aspect that let him sense where you were.” She dropped the right boot into a basket with the breastplate, cuisse, and greave. “Other leg, please, Pidge.”

 

The green paladin held out her other leg obediently, wiping the drying tears and snot from her face with a cloth. “A new one? Which one was it?”

 

“His personality trait, patience and understanding.” Matt said, taking her free arm and starting to strip the stained armor from it as well. “And you probably don’t remember, since Keith said it happened when you were passing out, but you got yours as well.”

 

She froze, wide-eyed. “Courage and curiosity?” She questioned uncertainly. At her brother’s nod, she frowned, clutching the cloth tightly in her fist. “But that...it doesn’t make any sense. Why then? I was...I wasn’t being brave then. All I could do was lie there and cry.” It hurt to admit how weak and helpless she’d been, but confusion outweighed shame and she knew neither Matt nor Allura would make fun of her. Matt’s arm tightened around her at the admission, and he pressed a kiss to the top of her head that was probably intended to reassure himself as much as comfort her.

 

“We aren’t sure.” Allura admitted, dropping the last vambrace into the basket and neatly kicking it out of the way. “Perhaps Malrento can shed some light on it later. We might as well inquire while we’re waiting for news from the scouts. For now, though, you’ve had quite an ordeal and our friends are waiting for you.” She nodded over her shoulder toward the door with a small smile. “Let’s get that bodysuit off.”

 

“What’s left of it, anyway.” Matt chuckled, helping her unzip. Glancing down, Pidge found herself letting out a small watery giggle of agreement. There was a wide rip in the left side where the blaster had got her, exposing the new scar. And a large rectangle had been cut from the midsection, exposing her belly button. With so many extra holes to make the shaped fabric misbehave, it took both Matt and Allura to help her shimmy out of the suit and leave her standing in her underwear.

 

The amount of dried blood that had soaked her side under the suit was frankly terrifying to look at and made her feel dizzy all over again. She quickly averted her gaze and locked eyes with her brother, who looked as sick as she felt. “I’m okay, Matt. I’m fine.” She told him quietly, and he swallowed hard and nodded, his hand tightening involuntarily where it rested on her shoulder and bracing them both while Allura wiped the blood away with the cloth.

 

“All done.” Allura pronounced proudly, passing her a soft, fluffy towel. Pidge quickly dried herself off, shivering as the fabric brushed over the sensitive new scar tissue, then accepted the stack of folded clothing from Matt. By the time she was dressed, she felt more or less back to her usual self, so long as she didn’t think too hard about things. But she could feel the memories lurking, and didn’t doubt for a second that she’d be having nightmares for a while. Right now, though, she could distract herself. Allura said the others were waiting to see her.

 

The moment she stepped out of the bathroom, she found herself swept up into a rib-crackingly tight hug, her feet dangling above the floor. A startled yelp came out as more of a wheeze as the wind was knocked right out of her.

 

“Aw, man, Pidge, I’m so glad you're okay!” Hunk’s voice was loud in her ear, palpable relief in his tone. While Pidge appreciated the enthusiastic welcome--Hunk always gave the best hugs--this was overdoing it just a little.

 

“Can’t breathe!” she gasped out, and the yellow paladin hastily loosened his grip with an apology, allowing her to suck in a lungful of much-needed air. “Let’s not put me straight back in a pod, okay?” Judging by the pained look on his face, he didn’t appreciate the joke, and she sighed, wrapping her arms around his neck to return the hug. “Sorry. I’m okay, Hunk, really. Matt and Allura said you’re the one who got Keith and me out. Thanks for that.”

 

His arms tightened around her again, although not to the same degree as before. “Pidge, you’re like a  _ sister _ to me. You don’t ever have to thank me for stuff like that. It’s what family does.”

 

She felt her cheeks warm and hid her face in the older teen’s broad shoulder. It was nice to know she wasn’t the only one who’d started to see their fellow paladins as a surrogate family. “Well, thanks for being an awesome brother, then.” She declared into his shirt.

 

“Aw, Pidge…” The flustered yellow paladin gave her one more squeeze before setting her down. 

 

Her feet had barely touched the ground when she was picked up again, and she had a half-second to think that this was hardly a dignified way to treat a fifteen-year-old, let alone a paladin of Voltron, before she recognized Shiro’s warm embrace as he hugged her tightly. “You scared the hell out of us, kiddo.” He said quietly.

 

“...Sorry.” Pidge squeezed as tight as she could, trying to wordlessly reassure him that she was fully recovered. He must have realized her intent, because he laughed softly and set her back on her feet with an affectionate ruffle of her hair.

 

From there she was passed around (thankfully not quite literally, her feet remaining on the ground) to Allura, who squeezed her gently for a long moment and whispered something in Altean that Pidge didn’t quite catch before disappearing with the data tablet from Trepan Kev, Coran, who ruffled her hair and rambled about some mischief Alfor and someone named Ilexam had once got into with a suspicious brightness in his eyes that made her fling her arms around him without another moment’s thought, and Alejandro and Kurogane, who sandwiched her between them without a word but whose shaking hands and not-quite-even breathing said enough to fill her with a surge of guilt as she hugged them as tightly as she had Shiro.

 

That left Lance and Keith. She was surprised Lance hadn’t been the first to pounce on her, but then she saw him standing beside Keith and understood. The red paladin’s arms were wrapped tightly around himself, and there was anxiety and guilt written plainly in his dark eyes as he looked at her. When he saw her attention on him, he flinched and averted his gaze. If it hadn’t been for the taller teen’s hand on his back, he probably would have bolted.

 

Pidge was baffled for a moment. Why did he seem as though he thought she was going to be angry with him? He hadn’t done anything wrong. Under the circumstances, he’d done everything he possibly could down in that base. It wasn’t his fault she’d gotten hurt and almost--

 

_ Oh. _

 

She’d been scared and in pain and thought she was going to die. But Keith had been there too, helpless to do anything besides keep pressure on the wound and keep shouting into dead coms while she faded away in front of him. She remembered the feeling of his tears on her face, the misery in his voice. Of  _ course _ he was beating himself up. Surging forward, she firmly ignored his flinch and flung her arms around him in the tightest hug she could manage. “Keith. Thank you.” She said quietly, tucking her head under his chin. “That was...really bad.” An understatement if she’d ever said one. “But you were there and that helped a lot. Thanks.”

 

There was a momentary hesitation, then Keith pulled his arms out from between them and wrapped them around her in return. She could feel his whole body trembling as he clung to her. “I’m okay, Keith. I’m safe. You kept me safe and got help. I’m okay.” She soothed. From the way her head was turned she could see Lance’s relieved and approving expression. She must have guessed correctly about her socially-awkward brother needing that reassurance. “I dunno what I would’ve done if you hadn’t been there.”

 

“See, Keith? Told you you did good.” Lance’s voice was equally gentle as he wrapped his own long arms around them both. Keith managed a small nod, and Pidge smiled. Looked like she’d missed some bonding between the two while she was healing. How long had she been in that pod anyway? If those two had finally confessed and she’d missed it, she was going to be  _ pissed _ . “It’s good to have you back, Pidgey. I missed my favourite sister.”

 

She blushed and freed an arm to punch him lightly on the shoulder, earning a delighted grin. “I’m only your favourite because I’m the only one here for you to bother.” She mock-complained.

 

“Fair point. Plus I can’t bother Allura because she can kick my ass.” Lance shrugged. “Which raises the question: which of us is your favourite brother?” He waggled an eyebrow at her, and shot a smirk at Hunk, who rolled his eyes.

 

Matt crossed his arms and shook his head. “Me obviously. I’m the--”

 

“Keith is my favourite.” Pidge smirked at the various expressions of dismay, mock outrage, resignation, and surprise around her. She tightened her grip around a visibly shocked red paladin. “He doesn’t steal my headphones, touch my tech, or lecture me about bedtimes. So there.” She stuck out her tongue at the others.

 

As Matt and Lance descended into a squabble about who her second-favourite should be and why, Pidge was pleased to hear Keith huff out a soft breath of laughter as he finally relaxed into the hug. As long as she had her family around her, they could get through anything.

 

__________

 

Colleen closed the last file and slammed her pencil down on the table hard enough that the lead snapped off, rolling to rest against the edge of the notebook she’d been writing in. Fury boiled in her veins.

 

A moment later, Ryou stepped into the room in the middle of her stream of invective detailing colourfully the probable parentage of each and every member of the Garrison’s top brass, a steaming mug in each hand. “Are you done or are you just venting again?”

 

“Both.” The older woman growled, slapping the laptop closed and slouching back in her chair with her arms folded.

 

“Sounds promising.” He commented drily, taking a careful sip from his mug and setting hers in front of her well away from both laptop and notebook. “How badly do we want to burn the Garrison to the ground now?”

 

Colleen buried her face in her hands and let out a loud, muffled screaming noise into her palms.

 

“That bad?”

 

“Worse.” She took a deep breath, flipping the notebook to the page where she’d been compiling an overview of the contents of the stolen files. The notes painted a grim picture of just how much the Galaxy Garrison had been concealing from the general public, and just how many lies they’d been telling the families of those declared dead on Kerberos and in the so-called ‘training accident’. “They’ve had definitive proof of aliens for sixteen years, Ryou.”

 

The older Shirogane sibling blinked, glanced down at his mug, muttered something about needing something stronger in it, then sat down on the couch across from her and gestured for her to continue.

 

Colleen glanced down at her notes, although all the information was still fresh in her mind. “Sixteen years ago a group of soldiers on a survival exercise encountered a lone alien in the desert roughly where the Arizona branch is now. They described it as humanoid in structure, covered in purple fur, with cat-like ears and glowing yellow eyes. They attempted to apprehend it, wounding it, but it escaped, and a small craft was seen launching from a concealed canyon shortly after. Blood and fur samples from the site of the fight confirmed non-terrestrial origin.”

 

“Shoot first, ask questions later.” Ryou rolled his eyes in disgust. “Typical military.”

 

“Mhm. After that is when Galaxy Garrison started trying to get the rights to that big patch of desert where they encountered their mystery alien. Probably hoping it or its friends would come back after they shot it, fucking morons. They surveyed the land during the negotiations, and that’s when they found the blue lion cave.”

 

Glancing over toward the conspiracy board on the wall, her friend frowned. He opened his mouth as though to ask something, then shut it again. Colleen raised an eyebrow. “Question?”

 

“Just wondering if it’s a coincidence that the cave and this other alien were both found in the same area. Geographically speaking, they were right on top of each other.” He sighed. “I mean, it makes no sense, those carvings are ten thousand years old, but considering the way those carvings predicted those kids and my brother finding a giant robot lion spaceship, I’m just a little hesitant to rule anything out without actual evidence against it.”

 

“...I don’t believe in coincidences, Ryou.” She hadn’t before, and any remaining faith in statistical outliers had gone right out the window and into the ditch after the last couple of weeks. Two alien presences in the same tiny little patch of American desert? She knew in her gut they must be connected, even if they might never know why or how.

 

He grimaced. “I used to. Then you called me from Keith’s place. Carry on.”

 

She nodded, picking up her pencil again and tapping it against the desk. “Fast forward to two years ago, Kerberos. There’s been no encounters of any sort during the intervening time, either on-planet or off, just untranslatable radio chatter from deep space that they had to build special instrumentation to pick up. On the first day of ground operations at Kerberos, though, monitoring satellites pick up a massive object moving into a low orbit over the moon. Imagery shows a spacecraft of non-Human design picking up the crew from their worksite with a tractor beam before breaking orbit again and leaving the system.” She stared off into the distance as she spoke, gaze unfocused as she thought of her husband and son, the satellite stills of them fleeing desperately across the ice with Takashi etched into the back of her eyelids. The last pictures that might ever be taken of them that she would see. Taking a deep breath, Colleen forced herself to refocus. “That vessel and others like it are designated after that point as ‘K-vessels’ and are assumed to be hostile because of what happened at Kerberos.”

 

“Which brings us to last year?” Ryou tactfully moved the subject along and nodded toward the board, the printed image of the actual blue lion standing out amongst photos of cave drawings and lines of red string.

 

“Yes. A K-vessel was sighted in the Kuiper belt about a week before D-day. Luna and Mars were tracking it and reporting back to Earth. This one seems to have been moving at cruise speed, since it was around the orbit of Jupiter by D-day.”

 

“Is that where Takashi’s ship came from? I may be just an archaeologist, but you don’t have an astronaut for a brother without picking up some things. That little pod didn’t look like it was equipped for interstellar voyages.”

 

Colleen frowned, flipping back through her notes to the section on the missing Kerbero pilot’s return to Earth. “Oddly enough, no. They don’t seem to know where it came from, but it arrived from a completely different direction.” She made a notation in red pen about that oddity. “It was detected by Luna’s sensors already on an atmospheric insertion course, projected to land near the Arizona Garrison. We know what happens after that.”

 

Ryou nodded, ticking off points on his fingers around his mug. “Zulu niner lockdown, the pod crashes, Iverson and his people try to quarantine Takashi…” The man’s lips tightened with anger at the memory of the way his brother had been treated. “...Takashi gets rescued-slash-stolen by Keith, Katie, Lance, and Hunk, who disappear with him into the desert to Keith’s shack. Several hours later they find the Blue Lion ship and launch into space--Has the Garrison put that together?”

 

“The Garrison doesn’t seem to have made that connection, actually.” She’d checked the files as thoroughly as she could, but there was no indication that the same connection had been made amongst the military brass as she and Ryou had discovered a few days earlier. “Or if they have, there’s no record of it. Someone may have put the pieces together but stayed quiet for fear of sounding crazy.”

 

The other man’s eyebrows shot up nearly to his hairline. “Really? Huh. What else do we know that they don’t?”

 

Colleen laughed. After all the shocks of last few weeks, Ryou no longer seemed to be able to be genuinely surprised by anything they discovered. More than once she overheard him complaining to himself about how his life seemed to have turned into a Clive Cussler novel and how Dirk Pitt had nothing on Colleen Holt and it was only a matter of time until the black-clad men with guns showed up to try to assassinate them for interfering with their evil plot for world domination. “Well, they don’t seem to have seen the lower portion of the cave, which might be part of the reason they haven’t put the five of them and the Lion together. With the Lion gone they probably figured it wasn’t worth going back.”

 

Groaning, Ryou downed the rest of his coffee. “Well shit. I was hoping they might have made more progress with that alien writing than me.” He set his mug aside and rested his elbows on his knees, regarding her grimly. “And while as an archaeologist I’m fascinated by the caves, and disappointed in them for not following up, I gotta say, if I were the Garrison brass I’d be a lot more concerned about hostile aliens showing up in my system twice in one year. That seems like the start of a worrying pattern.”

 

Colleen faltered. Ryou made a frighteningly good point, one she was ashamed to admit she hadn’t considered, being more focused on what had been hidden from them than the implications of those events. What if it wasn’t just one ship next time the K-vessels came near Sol? The first two could easily be scouts, getting the lay of the system as a precursor for an invasion. The abduction of the Kerberos crew may even have been intended as some kind of intimidation warning.

 

Picking up her mug, she stared at the dark surface and thought hard. “...The military is too paranoid not to have considered that possibility.” She said slowly. “But we haven’t seen any signs of Galaxy Garrison trying to increase their combat strength. No recruitment drives, no subtle propaganda schemes, nothing.”

 

“You think they’re just leaving it as is and hoping for the best?” Ryou sounded alarmed, dark eyes wide as he stared at her.

 

“I don’t know  _ what _ they’re fucking thinking.” Colleen growled, running a hand through hair that was every bit as much of a messy mop as Matthew’s normally was. “Could be that, they could just be taking their sweet time, could be something else entirely. But I do know that as we are now, we’d get our asses kicked. Those ships are huge, according to Mars base’s scans.”

 

The elder Shirogane took a deep breath. “So we need to somehow get the Garrison to ramp up enough strength to potentially fight off an alien invasion. Lovely. I presume you have some concept in mind for how an archaeologist and a lawyer are going to boss around an entire branch of the military?”

 

A slow smile spread across Colleen’s face. “ _ We _ aren’t going to boss anyone.” Reaching over, she opened the laptop back up and switched to the internet browser. Curious, Ryou got to his feet and crossed the room, standing behind her chair as she opened tabs for a dozen different conspiracy forums. “If there’s anything being a prosecutor has taught me, Ryou, it’s this: there is no fire that burns hotter, or is harder to put out, than that of public opinion.”

 

She heard his breath catch in his throat as he realized what she was planning to do. “You’re going to expose them?”

 

Her fingers flew over the keyboard as she began to compose a new post. “Bureaucracy and politics have often been said to be the proverbial immovable object. But the general public, sufficiently unified by self-preservation, should be able to steamroll right over it.” 

 

“Assuming we can convince them of the threat.”

 

“Any competent technician should be able to confirm the authenticity of the files we’re leaking, and that’ll support our claims. It’ll take time, but word will spread and the whole thing will gather steam. By the time the Garrison becomes aware of it, it should have spread too far for them to contain it.” She copied the stolen files into a zip file and attached it to the post, adding a few choice images into the post itself. Takashi, strapped to a metal table surrounded by soldiers in quarantine suits. The first K-vessel, its tractor beam tearing up the surface of Kerberos behind three fleeing Humans. And the Blue Lion, plunging into the portal. Double-checking her work, she scanned it once more. A rough summary of everything the Garrison had concealed from the public over the last sixteen years, her and Ryou’s conclusions on the potential threat, and a call for the public to demand protection from the hostile aliens.

 

With a self-satisfied nod, she duplicated the post on each of the other sites, then submitted. “And now we wait.”

 

________

 

“ _ You call that flying?! I’ve seen better maneuvers from an overfed cow! _ ” Mitch Iverson roared, sending the last group of cadets cowering as they emerged from the simulator. “Think about what you did wrong, and I expect you to complete the simulation  _ correctly _ tomorrow!”

 

As the students vanished as quickly as they could make their escapes, Mitch groaned and rubbed his forehead to ward off an impending headache. These kids. Couldn’t even fly a simple retrieval mission correctly. God help them if they ever had to actually  _ fight _ . And what they didn’t know was that they might very well have to.

 

Those in the know refused to discuss it or let any action be taken to inform the pilots or even properly train them for such a situation. And every day they spent with their heads in the sand and their thumbs up their asses was another wasted day that could have been spent preparing. It was going to get everyone on the goddamn planet killed sooner or later. 

 

Because of them, his hands were largely tied and his options limited. He had one last ace up his sleeve, though, one that he’d placed nearly all of his faith and support in and could only wait to see if his gamble paid off.

 

His phone chimed in his pocket, and the Commander of the Arizona Garrison felt a surge of hope as he fished it out and unlocked it. The notification bar informed him that several tracked search terms had been mentioned together on a number of sites. A press of his thumb opened the first webpage, a major conspiracy forum, and a rough laugh bubbled from his chest as a familiar picture taken by the Pirithous satellite over two years earlier stared back at him.

 

“Atta girl, Holt.” He said softly, relief flooding through him. “You tear those ass-covering cowards to shreds.”

 

Mitch could only pray they had enough time for Colleen Holt’s plan to do what they needed it to.


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No warnings for this chapter.

“What in the names of the first Hunters is going on in here?”

 

Shiro looked up at the startled voice and immediately tried and failed to not burst out laughing. Shiiar’keh, who had obviously just come in, was peering this way and that over their shoulders at two small Altean children who were now scrabbling for purchase on their smooth fur. As soon as one of them had stabilized himself, he used the H’ress’s back as a springboard to leap to a couch with a wild yell, the other child following a moment later. The pack leader seemed highly confused by this unexpected use of their person as a jungle gym, and Malrento, standing beside them, was clearly amused by his leader’s discomfiture.

 

“It’s a, ah, game.” He said once he got himself under control, sitting up properly on the couch. “From Earth. It’s called The Floor Is Lava. We, uh, thought it would be fun to teach the little ones while we were looking after them.” A young Ch’mek scrambled along the back of the couch behind his head with a loud shriek and he winced.

 

With the team still recovering emotionally and mentally from the Trepan Kev debacle, and nothing to do but wait for news about the Weblum’s Breath, Alejandro had suggested spending another day looking after the youngsters on the Long Wind, this time as a group, as a way of relaxing and taking their minds off things. This was met with varying degrees of enthusiasm by most of the team, and so they’d all made the short hop over to the other ship with the Lions for the first time in five days. Once they’d arrived at the nursery, however, they discovered that the addition of ten adults made the room a bit cramped, so they’d rounded up their charges and gone in search of somewhere with more space to play around in.

 

It hadn’t been long before they found the large lounge with its wide variety of furniture, probably intended for calmer social events than the party they’d experienced after Hunk’s unlocking of the combative characteristic. Shiro had been of the opinion that it would be good for storytelling and naps. Hunk had started to say something about hide-and-seek.

 

Lance had taken one look around the room, screeched “The floor is lava!” before throwing himself headfirst at one of the couches, and within three seconds, a very confused Allura, Coran, and Keith were the only ones still in the doorway with the kids, while the others were all perched on various pieces of furniture with huge grins on their faces, aside from Shiro who couldn’t help but redden in embarrassment at his own reflexive reaction. He blamed Matt for training it into him.

 

“And the objective of this game is…?” Malrento asked, raising an eyebrow at a H’ress cub leaping from one end of a couch to a wide, flat bench and nearly skidding off the smooth surface.

 

“Um, there isn’t one, really.” Shiro admitted, blushing. “The only rule is that you can’t touch the floor, hence the name. You have to get around the room by moving across the furniture.” With a slight smirk he added. “Anyone standing on the floor can be considered to be part of the furniture.”

 

The H’ress laughed, darting forward to catch a tiny Galra that had misjudged her leap. They patted her head in response to a chirrup of gratitude before setting her on the couch next to the black paladin. “I see. A cub’s game?” They surveyed the room.

 

Shiro followed their gaze. Lance, Coran, and Matt seemed to be involved in whatever tag-esque game many of the children were playing, the ginger Human’s bad leg only slowing him down a little as he dove across the gap between two chairs in pursuit of two youngsters. Alejandro and Keith seemed to be involved in some sort of wrestling match on one of the flat seats they’d seen H’ress use before, with Kurogane laughing and egging them both on by turns. Hunk was encouraging Allura--something about agility training?--and the normally overly self-controlled Princess was laughing loudly, her hair a wild mess as she vaulted off the back of a couch and landed perfectly on a small table. As he watched, Pidge used her bayard--what had she even attached the thing to?--to swing across the scene with a wild tarzan yell, three children of various species clinging to her and screaming in delight. “... _ technically _ …” He admitted, flushing. Most of their team weren’t adults, either, if he wanted to be technical.

 

Shiiar’keh simply rumbled a laugh and shook their head. “Don’t worry. I wish some of my Hunters would take the opportunity to enjoy life like this. You paladins bear a heavy enough burden without letting it consume every waking moment.”

 

Relaxing, Shiro nodded in agreement as he looked around at his team. It was a relief to see that they were still able to loosen up and enjoy themselves with childish games, that this war they’d stumbled into hadn’t completely taken their ability to still be children. He focused on Alejandro and Kurogane as the former managed to knock Keith onto the floor with a triumphant shout. Those two had endured more pain and loss than he could truly comprehend. But since being welcomed fully into the team of this time, they seemed to be slowly healing, at least a little.

 

“Something I can help you two with?” He asked, turning his attention back to the Altean and H’ress.

 

“I’m told you had some questions about one of the aspects.” Malrento explained. “And I have some time free at the moment. But if this isn’t a good time…”

 

“No, no, now is fine.” Shiro straightened quickly. Despite endless speculation, none of them had managed to put forward a really solid theory to explain why a terrified, injured Pidge had unlocked an aspect that was supposed to be born from courage and curiosity. Especially since her old-timeline counterpart, Holt, had unlocked it while trying to revive a fatally-wounded teammate rather than herself. Although she was hiding it well, he and Matt both knew that the mystery bothered her and kept the whole frightening incident fresh in her mind, and he hoped that an explanation would help her put the memory behind her.

 

Putting his fingers to his lips, he let out a piercing whistle that instantly attracted all eyes and ears and brought the roughhousing to an abrupt halt. “Sorry to break up your fun, guys, but Malrento is here to talk to us. Everyone come settle down.”

 

There were a few small grumbles as the paladins climbed down from the furniture and came to join him in the seating cluster where he’d been relaxing. Coran started rounding up the reluctant youngsters. “I think it would be best if I escorted these little ones back to the nursery. After all that exercise they need a snack, a drink, and a rest.” He shot Shiro a meaningful look, both of them all too aware that some of the details of what they’d be discussing were not at all suitable for children, no matter how used to the dangers of war they were.

 

“Thank you, Coran.” He shot the Altean a grateful smile and put an arm around Matt as his boyfriend joined him. To his surprise, Pidge dropped into her brother’s lap a moment later, leaning against his chest and letting him drape his arms on either side of her neck. Keith joined them on Matt’s other side a moment later, shooting the green paladin a fiercely protective look that made her smile. 

 

Malrento settled into a chair and waited until everyone else was comfortable and the children were out of the room before speaking. “Let me begin by expressing how glad I am to see you all safe. I understand the green paladin was among the injured?”

 

Several of the group winced, Shiro among them. “Yes. We’re lucky Matt recommended keeping the Castle of Lions back from the fight to protect the healing pods, and that the other strategists agreed with it.” He shot his boyfriend an intensely grateful look and got a shaky smile in return as the ginger’s arms tightened around his sister.

 

Inclining his head respectfully to the two siblings, Malrento continued. “I also understand two of your team unlocked aspects during the mission. Am I right in assuming it to be one of those that you have questions about?”

 

It was Hunk who spoke up this time, his expression serious. “Yeah. Pidge and I both got the personality traits for our colours. We’ve got mine pretty well figured out, and it gave me the ability to sense life forces around me. It’s just Pidge’s that we’re not sure about.” He gave the youngest member of their team a concerned glance. Apparently Shiro wasn’t the only one who’d noticed how much it was bothering her. “Given the situation she was in, we can’t figure out why she got it when she did.”

 

“I see. Healing touch, correct? Alejandro, you and your partner mentioned that in your original timeline, that was one of the ones your teammate had managed to access as well. Would it be possible for you to describe to me, in as much detail as you are comfortable sharing, what happened in each situation? While the traits manifest differently from person to person, it should, in theory, be a similar trigger in both versions of the same person.”

 

Alejandro nodded, swallowing hard and glancing sideways at his partner, who laced their fingers together in silent reassurance. “Kurogane’d been badly hurt in a fight. Some monster of Haggar’s. Broken bones, and he was bleeding out from a bunch of gashes.” He indicated the ones on the side of the former red paladin’s head with a jerk of his own. “He’d actually stopped breathing before Holt could get to him to try to get him out. I kept them covered while she did CPR. I couldn’t really watch, obviously, but I could hear her yelling at him. How he wasn’t allowed to die before she’d gotten to see us married in a big goopy ceremony and adopt a dozen alien children and watch Kurogane have no idea how to parent.” He took a deep breath, a pained smile on his face at the memory he was reliving. “I remember it taking way too long to revive him, her saying something about kicking his ass if she didn’t get to see us grow up to be sappy old geezers, then there was this bright green flash and I heard Kurogane gasping. Then Holt ordered me to grab him and go, and we went. I didn’t realize until we got back to the Lions that the injuries were partly healed.”

 

Malrento hummed softly, his expression thoughtful. “Thank you, Alejandro. And my sorrows to you for the loss of your teammate.” Alejandro nodded stiffly, and the Altean turned his attention to the group on the other couch. “Pidge? You do not have to tell me if you don’t want to, but it would help me in trying to give you the answers you seek.”

 

The green paladin was silent for a moment, clinging to her brother’s hands, before breathing deeply. “There’s not a lot to tell. I was hurt really bad, and Keith and I were trapped in a closet because I was too hurt to run and he couldn’t carry me and still fight. I...I thought I was going to die.” Her voice was soft, but it still carried in the heavy silence of the room. “I was scared, and I wanted to go home, and I didn’t think I was going to make it out. Keith told me I activated it just as I passed out, and that’s it.”

 

“She was talking about the things she wanted to do with her life.” All eyes turned to Keith in surprise. The red paladin’s voice was strained, and Lance, perched beside him on the arm of the couch, put a hand on his shoulder in silent support. “Before she passed out. How she wanted to visit planets and learn about different alien tech and see what it was like to go to college or be in a relationship.” Shiro’s arm tightened around Matt, who had curled around Pidge protectively. He could feel them both trembling as they tried to control their emotions.

 

“I see…” Malrento folded his hands in front of his mouth and frowned consideringly. His gaze was fixed on the middle distance as he mumbled to himself thoughtfully, too low for them to hear more than a word or two.

 

While they waited, Shiro shifted to wrap both arms around all three of those beside him. It was an awkward position, and his arms didn’t quite reach, but none of them seemed to mind as they leaned against him. He felt Keith’s hand grab his, and Pidge’s small hand grab his sleeve.

 

They stayed like that for a few minutes, before Malrento abruptly straightened. “Of course. I should have realized.” Looking around, he smiled. “I believe I have the answer to your question, Pidge.”

 

Shiro released his embrace and saw Pidge straighten as well, pushing her glasses up as she regarded the Altean seriously. “So? What is it?”

 

He returned her gaze steadily, seemingly searching for the right words. “My own mentor, a woman named Cofira, told me once that of all the aspects, it is curiosity’s name that is the most misleading, an attempt to summarize in a single word something very subtle and complex. A more accurate, but even more misleading name to the uneducated, she said, would be desire.”

 

“The aspects, as I was taught, are very subtle things. Remember, they are parts of how a person thinks or feels or interacts with the world around them. And they are derived from the influence of their quintessence, which is elemental in nature. Those elements influence all the other associated aspects of their colour. Red is fire, and the aspects associated with it are quick and powerful, full of energy. Instinct, blood, passion, respect. Blue is water, flexible but also predictable and reliable. Adapting, heart, loyalty, trust. Yellow is earth, strong, steady, and supporting. Planning, bone, patience, understanding. Black is sky and void, intangible but all-encompassing. Leading, mind, love, will. And green...green is forest. Life and all that comes with it. Learning, nerve, courage, curiosity.”

 

“I believe you unlocked your aspect, in both timelines, in response to the desire for the future. To continue on. To see what the new day would bring, either for yourself or for your family.” The Altean gave a respectful nod to a wide-eyed Kurogane and Alejandro. “Holt wanted to see what the future held for her last two companions, her family. You wanted to see what the future held for yourself.”

 

Malrento gave the wide-eyed green paladin a gentle smile. “I think before this you had forgotten there was a life to be lived after the battle. Courage in battle will only get you killed if you do not remember to want to come home when it is over. It seems fitting to me that together they unlock a second chance at survival.”

 

__________

 

The door to the computer lab swung open just as Shiiar’keh reached it, and only the H’ress’s quick reflexes kept the Taujeerian tech that emerged from hitting the floor as they bounced off their chest. “Careful! Are you alright?”

 

Tolna-Tchet looked up, relief evident in their posture as they straightened. “Pack leader! I was just coming to get you! We need to organize another scout ship immediately!”

 

Exhaustion was evident in the Taujeerian’s face, from six rotations of working long hours as part of the team decrypting the files from Trepan Kev, but right now they were practically jittering on the spot with anxious energy. “You found it?” Shiiar’keh asked, quickly following them into the room to see the data on the console. As the wait had stretched on, with scouts returning back with reports of battleships and dreadnoughts being built and repaired consuming each almathium shipment they traced from the files, the H’ress had become increasingly afraid that their gamble at Trepan Kev had not paid off. That the world-breaker would be deployed and they would find it only by the reports of its use blowing across the universe.

 

“We believe so. It was on the tablet from the Green Paladin’s team, naturally.” The disgust in the smaller alien’s tone was entirely for the fact that it was the last tablet to be processed that held the crucial information and not for the delay in that tablet reaching them. Matthew was well-liked throughout the pack, and everyone had been worried for the younger sister he loved so much. “Many shipments, large ones, all going to the same place. Not a known shipyard, either.”

 

Two of the techs clustered around the console moved aside to make room for Shiiar’keh, who quickly scanned over the data and agreed with their conclusions. This could very well be what they were looking for. They desperately hoped that was the case.

 

Stepping back, they moved over to the communications panel and called up the main deck, startling the on-duty specialist. “Lacai, contact Hae and have her ready her scout ship for immediate departure. Then prepare a single-ship wormhole to these coordinates for her.” They rattled off the numbers from the files and saw the young Altean nod in agreement before signing off and glancing around at the exhausted but hopeful technicians. “I must return to the main deck. Good work, all of you.”

 

__________

 

As she groomed her fur, Kovirak’s claws lingered as they always did over the discoloured patches on her right thigh and ribs, pale scar-fur standing out sharply against the darker violet of her body-fur. They were a constant remind her of what she had left behind, what she would sacrifice anything to protect.

 

She had known from the beginning that she could not stay on that world forever. She could not blend in amongst its people, and she could only be hidden for so long no matter how isolated her mate’s home. When her cub was born she had looked at his features, so much like his father’s, with relief and sadness for the normal life it would grant him there. And when their time together ran out, she did the only thing she could do to keep them both safe and fled, drawing their attackers far from the little home before escaping to her small ship and leaving that world behind forever. She left knowing that while she would never see her son again, he would at least grow up safe and happy on a world that as yet was beyond the edges of Zarkon’s empire.

 

And then Haggar discovered her spying for the Blades and it all fell to pieces.

 

Thankfully the witch had been busy of late, too busy to taunt her by demanding the names of more of her fellows in exchange for her cub’s continued safety. Kovirak knew she was still being watched, but it at least gave her a few rotation’s respite to think and try, once again, to find a way out for all those she cared about.

 

A knock at the door of her quarters startled her from her thoughts. Perhaps her brief peace was over already. Slipping on the tunic she wore during her off-duty hours, she paced to the door and opened it. Not Haggar, thank Marmora, but a low-ranking soldier who saluted her respectfully. “Apologies for disturbing you during your sleep-shift, Lieutenant, but I was ordered to bring you these immediately.” Holding out his hand, she saw a small data chip in his palm, the purple-and-red markings indicating official orders.

 

Taking the chip warily, Kovirak slipped it into her personal computer. The file opened automatically and she scanned it. Then again, confusion flaring through her. “Transfer orders?”

 

The soldier shrugged. “I was told to wait while you gather your possessions, then escort you to the shuttle that’s waiting.” He saluted again.

 

Kovirak was only half-listening, reading the orders over a third time. Immediate transfer via shuttle to an unnamed ship in an undisclosed location. This didn’t make any sense. Surely Haggar wished to keep her here under her thumb, where she could be more easily watched. And the location of her transfer being kept secret? The fur on the back of her neck prickled uncomfortably. Something smelled wrong here, but she was at a loss as to what it might be, or what she could do about it. “Wait here.” She said finally. “Give me twenty dobashes.”

 

Shutting the door in the young man’s face, the older Galra set to work packing her things. She didn’t own much, and packing it wasn’t going to take her the full twenty, not even close, but it gave her a little time to think, to figure out what was going on. Changing into her armor consumed a few dobashes as well, and it hit her as she was fastening her vambrace. 

 

Project Scaultrite.

 

She knew the world-breaker was nearing completion, being given top priority for personnel and equipment and materiel. Once it was finished, it made sense for Lotor, Haggar, or both to go along to oversee initial testing. That was why she was being transferred, to keep her close after all. And without a name or location, even if she could break free enough to send a message to Kolivan, there was nothing useful she could say. Kovirak pounded a fist against her thigh, helpless and frustrated. At best she might be able to alert him to the location it was being tested in, if she recognized it, but in doing so she would give Haggar ample reason to go after her cub and Kovirak would be helpless to stop her.

 

Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to calm down. Panic and anger would do her no good. All she could do for now was follow orders, gather information, and watch for opportunities, just as she’d been trained all those cycles ago. She may not carry her knife any more, but she was still a Blade of Marmora, and knowledge was her way of life.

 

Stuffing the tunic into her personal bag, she stood, surveyed the room once more to ensure she had collected everything, then headed for the door. “Lead the way.” She ordered, receiving a stiff nod and another salute in reply. The walk down to the hangar where the shuttle waited was long and silent, and Kovirak occupied herself with the question of where the weapon was likely to be put to use.

 

To her surprise, she was the only passenger aboard the crew shuttle, and her apprehension grew. Haggar was definitely keeping her on a short leash. Most likely this meant she was the last of the crew being transferred to Project Scaultrite, in order to keep her in the dark, and if that was the case, then the vrekking thing must be nearly ready. She dug her claws into the fabric of the flight harness as she felt the engines powering up beneath her.   
  
Through the cabin viewscreens she could see the massive bulk of Command Central receding behind them, stars and other ships forming a dizzying pattern around it. Then a wormhole flared directly ahead of them, and the stars were replaced by swirling purple energies. The wormhole portion of the journey seemed to take forever, anxiety clawing at her throat, and then they were through and she forgot for a moment how to breath.   
  
The thing was massive, almost as large as the inner portion of Command Central, but far different in shape. It had a dreadnought’s bulk, intended to counter the powerful recoil of its own weapons, but instead of a dread’s heavy front-mounted ion cannon, this monstrosity seemed to have a giant version running directly through its core. There were no other visible weapons along the smooth hull. This was a ship that had one purpose and one purpose only, and somehow that made it all the more terrifying.

 

As they sped towards the gigantic weapon-ship, Kovirak was distantly aware of activity around it. Construction gantries being pulled away to leave the ship hanging freely in space. A fleet of cruisers and regular dreadnoughts and assault ships, dwarfed by the size of the other vessel, forming up into combat lines in preparation for departure. And one last construction ship putting the finishing touches on the insignia of the Galra Empire, splashed large across the world-breaker’s side.

 

A hangar yawned ahead of them and the shuttle moved into it, cutting off her line of sight of everything but the stars, which vanished as well as the doors slid shut behind them. When the small craft settle to its berth and Kovirak stepped out, she found a single soldier waiting who gestured wordlessly for her to follow then turned and strode off. Obediently she fell into step behind him, trying to ignore the racing of her heart deep inside her chest.

 

The silent soldier led her as far as the doors of the bridge, and then she was on her own.

 

As soon as she stepped through onto the bridge, a familiar mocking voice made her bristle instinctively, fur standing on end. “Ah, Lieutenant Kovirak. How nice of you to finally join us.” Haggar smirked at her from between the control columns of a teleduv, flanked by a pair of muscular soldiers who stood guard over her as though the Druid weren’t perfectly capable of tearing all three of the Galra apart in ticks without breaking a sweat. “Welcome aboard the Weblum’s Breath. You’re just in time for her maiden voyage.”

 

“It’s an honour to be here, Lady Haggar.” Koivrak lied through her teeth, ducking her head and saluting as was expected of her no matter how much it galled her to do so. “I look forward to seeing what this masterpiece of engineering is capable of.”

 

If anything, Haggar’s smile seemed to widen, reminding her of a carnivorous deep-sea fish with too many teeth and making her shudder with dread. “Oh, don’t worry. That’s exactly what you’ll be seeing today, my dear. Prepare for departure.” This last comment seemed to be directed at one of the technicians operating the ship from a bank of consoles below the enormous main viewscreen. Obedient hands flew across control panels, and Kovirak could feel distant engines rumbling to life as the siren for imminent wormhole travel blared overhead.

 

The head Druid’s hands tightened on the controls as the ship began to move forward, channelling her quintessence down into the scaultrite lens array of the teleduv. Moments later, a gigantic purple portal flared to life in front of them. Kovirak kept her eyes on the screen as the first clumps of warships preceded them into the portal. Where were they going? What planet had been so defiant that this monstrous weapon was being brought to bear to subdue them? The only planet that came to mind was Olkarion, liberated a few periods ago by Voltron and the ones who had constructed the giant teleduv used in the plan that had nearly killed Emperor Zarkon. But somehow that didn’t feel quite right. Something deep in her gut told her it was not Olkarion she would see on the other side of the wormhole.

 

Purple swirled around them, the interior of the wormhole, then the massive ship was through and falling into orbit. A grey, pock-marked moon hung some distance away, partially lit by a single star at the center of the system. But it wasn’t either of those things that attracted her attention. Instead, her gaze locked on the planet in front of her, a swirled marble of white clouds over blue seas and green-brown continents.

 

_ No. No no no. Please no. Not here. Anywhere but here. He was supposed to be  _ safe _ here. _

 

For a moment, everything else fell away as Lieutenant Kovirak stared at a world she had left sixteen cycles earlier and never expected to see again as long as she lived. And now here she was, on the bridge of a ship carrying a weapon designed to destroy that very world and everything on it.

 

Something inside her snapped.

 

Haggar had made a mistake, bringing her here to see this. The only power the witch held over her was that she could not act, because doing so would endanger her cub. But now, to protect him, acting was the only option left. The leash was gone.

 

Kovirak whirled and lunged. She had only seconds to move, while Haggar was busy maintaining the wormhole for the rest of the fleet as they passed through it. She slammed her fist with punishing force into one guard’s gut, doubling him over with a gasp as the air was knocked from his lungs. She wrenched his gun from him and bludgeoned his partner across the head, toppling the second Galra to the floor with blood leaking from under his crumpled helmet. A moment later she was out the door, sprinting with all her considerable speed down the corridor in search of a communications terminal. She had to warn the Blade, and hope that they could summon Voltron to protect this world as she had failed to do. Once she’d done that, she would do whatever she could to sabotage the Weblum’s Breath. If it took her life to do so, at least her son would be safe.

 

________

 

A massive purple wormhole closed behind the last assault ship, energy dissipating into the void. Silence fell over the empty shipyard where the Weblum’s Breath had been constructed.

 

A moment later, another portal opened some distance away, this one Altean blue. The ship that emerged was tiny, nearly invisible against the backdrop of open space with its dark colouring that was broken only by the patterns of stars that once hung in the sky over Balmera-183-Tel as it died, the last crystals pried from its body to power Empire ships.

 

The pilot, a Balmeran named Hae, cursed as she saw the idle construction gantries, the abandoned cargo ships. Whatever had been built here was far, far bigger than any normal Empire warship. And it was gone, leaving no trace of its destination behind.

 

Hitting a button on the console, Hae sent a signal back to the Long Wind to request a return wormhole. The portal opened nearby and she sent her little craft plunging into it, wondering how she was going to tell the pack leaders that they had found the location they sought--too late.

 

_______

 

Potravok snarled as he fought to regain his breath from the blow that traitorous Lieutenant had dealt him. Grabbing at the wall to pull himself upright, he staggered forward, stopping only to grab his dead partner’s gun from the floor before heading toward the door in pursuit of Kovirak. He’d kill her for her treasonous--

 

“Let her go, Potravok.”

 

He stopped short, glancing over his shoulder at the Lady Haggar. She had released the teleduv controls now, and stepped down from the platform. The Druid seemed oddly unconcerned by this turn of events as she stared at the image of the planet in front of them. “But my lady…” He stammered uncertainly, glancing between Haggar and the door. “She is clearly a traitor. If there are others, and she summons allies--”

 

Haggar’s amused laugh cut him off. “Well of course she’s going to contact her allies. Why do you think I brought her here? We don’t want the Paladins of Voltron to miss a show in their honour, now do we?”


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: One panic attack, several brief mentions of minor character death, and one brief mention of minor character suicide. All but the panic attack have to do with past timeline stuff. To skip the panic attack, skip the section narrated by Alejandro. To skip the minor character death mentions, skip the ending italics in the sections narrated by minor characters (Kolivan, Ryou, Lance's mom, Hunk's mom). To skip the suicide mention, skip the ending italics of Kovirak's section.
> 
> This is the longest chapter I've written so far (including the current buffer). 6.1k words and 16 narrator changes.
> 
> *vibrates excitedly* Buckle up, kids, here we fucking go.

As the first lights appeared in the sky over the unsuspecting planet, they went largely unnoticed by the people on the ground. Except for those in a position to see them who had knowledge of astronomy, of which there were relatively few, most dismissed them as bright stars or planets clustered to the right of the quarter moon. The people of Earth went about their day or night without giving them another thought, completely unaware that over the next few hours their world was about to be changed forever.

 

_ (In another time, the lights do not come for another year and a half. The first response is still the same.) _

 

________

 

An alarm blared from the main communications console, jerking Kolivan’s attention from his strategy discussion with three senior Blades. In a couple of quick strides he crossed the room to the console, reaching over the startled operator’s shoulder to bring up the message. A voice-only transmission, tagged with every emergency code the Blade possessed in order to attract immediate attention. When he hit the playback on the message, his ears flared in surprise at the voice that issued from the speakers, possibly the last he would have expected to be sending an emergency-coded transmission, before pinning back in horror as he processed the content of the message.

 

“ _ Kolivan. The Blades are compromised. You need to issue an alert to recall them all immediately. _ ” Kovirak spoke rapidly, her tone laced with desperation. “ _ Headquarters is safe. Anywhere else is suspect. I’m so sorry. _ ” There was the sound of a ragged breath being drawn. “ _ The world-breaker has been deployed accompanied by an armada. System coordinates X-9-Y-L23. Third world. Tell Voltron. Hurry. I’ll do what I can. May Marmora save us all. _ ”

 

The message ended as abruptly as it had begun, leaving a ringing silence in the command room of the Blade of Marmora headquarters as those present stared at each other in horror.

 

It took Kolivan a moment to shake himself free of his shock, composure entirely gone at the brutal revelations. Kovirak. He still suspected that she was the one who had betrayed them. But there was regret in her voice, and something told him that if all her words before had been lies, this, if nothing else, was grim truth. He snarled, taking charge once more. There was no time to waste. “Prepare to record a hyperwave message to the Castle of Lions.” He snapped out, the comm officer scurrying to obey. “And you,” he turned to the Blades he’d been conversing with. “Retrieve the luxite box mounted across from Marmora’s Stone. Hurry. Your family’s lives depend on it.”

 

_ (In another time, there is no warning given. Only the sudden appearance of a fleet, their safe haven surrounded. The hidden headquarters is breached and the Blades slaughtered one by one as they fight to defend themselves and each other. _

 

_ Kolivan is the last to fall, in the blood-soaked rubble of Marmora’s Stone.) _

 

________

 

Keith took a deep breath, clenching his hands at his sides. He could do this. No matter what the fear racing in his chest said. Gathering himself, he knocked at the door in front of him. There was a shuffling noise on the other side and a moment later, it slid open to reveal a familiar face. Lance’s eyebrows shot up in surprise at the sight of him. “Keith? What’s up, buddy?”

 

“Lance...can we, um...talk?” Keith wrapped his arms around himself nervously and fought the urge to bolt. “Privately?”

 

“Uh, yeah, of course. Come on in.” The blue paladin stepped back and out of the way, gesturing for him to enter. Accepting the invitation, Keith stepped inside, looking around as he did so. He’d never been in Lance’s room before, and it was simultaneously nothing like he’d expected and yet even more suited to the other teen than what he’d pictured. Possessions were neatly put away aside from the familiar jacket hanging on the back of the chair, and the desk had a neat row of pretty wooden boxes on it whose contents the red paladin could only begin to guess at. Even the bed was properly made, although the sheets were rumpled where they’d been lain on. That was where Lance seated himself, patting the bed beside him in a silent offer for Keith to join him. “What’s on your mind, Keith?”

 

Keith hesitated for a moment before sitting down beside the blue paladin, drawing one knee up to his chest and hugging it. “Just...give me a sec.” He said quietly. Now that he was here his carefully rehearsed words seemed to have vanished along with his nerve and he fumbled to get them back.

 

“Of course. Take your time.” Lance rested his elbows on his knees, no trace of impatience in his tone or posture, and Keith felt a surge of gratitude. The other teen was always so kind and understanding, even with Keith’s awkwardness and temper. That reminder gave him a surge of confidence. He could do this. No matter what the outcome, Lance wasn’t going to treat him any differently after this, it just wasn’t the kind of person he was. But he needed to do this while he had the chance.

 

He tugged at his gloves, trying to figure out where to start. “Uh...it’s sort of...complicated. So just hear me out, okay?” Lance glanced over at him, giving him a slow nod even as his brows furrowed in confusion, and Keith took a deep breath. He locked his gaze on his own lap, not wanting to struggle with trying to read Lance’s facial expressions right now when he needed to focus on putting his words in order.

 

“I...you’ve probably guessed by now I didn’t have the best life growing up. Awkward gay Asian being bounced around the foster systems in the Southern U.S. from the age of six. Not exactly a recipe for good times.” He picked at his gloves again. He needed to find some thread, that seam was starting to come apart. “Even Shiro doesn’t know most of it, and he knows more than anyone else. Except maybe Alejandro.” He added. He could see how much his older self trusted his partner, from the way they acted together. He trusted him even more than Keith trusted Shiro now, and before he’d met the two time travellers he hadn’t thought such a thing was possible. It surprised him, to say the least, but also left a spark of hope burning in his chest that all his fears hadn’t been able to put out. “It...left me pretty messed up, to be honest. Lots of issues.”

 

“I did kinda notice that.” Lance’s voice was soft and level. “I admit I kinda thought you were just a dick at first.” Now there was embarrassment, and Keith could easily picture him rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “But as soon as I got to know you better I realized you’re actually a really great guy.”

 

Keith felt his cheeks warming and he ducked his face further to hide it. “I’m really not. I’ve got anger and trust issues all over the place and I don’t know how to talk to people  _ at all _ , or how to act around them. I can’t figure them out.”

 

There was a slight hesitation. “Um, I think the awkwardness might be something else, actually, but that’s not important. Having issues doesn’t make you a bad person, Keith. Just means you have a bit harder time connecting, that’s all.”

 

“Yeah. I don’t...I really, really have a hard time trusting people. I especially don’t trust them to stay around.” He clenched his fists in his lap. This was harder than he thought it would be. He never normally talked about his fears out loud. Just waves of emotion for Red to read. It was easier. “I usually try not to let myself get attached, because they always leave. Shiro...he’s the first one who never did. Not on purpose.” It had taken a long, long time for the black paladin to earn the trust of the angry, wary cadet prodigy. Any sane person would given up after the first few rebuffs, but god, Shiro could be  _ stubborn _ when he wanted to. Once he’d decided he was going to be there for Keith, well...no one put that much effort into something they intended to toss aside when they were done, and that was half of what got him through the red paladin’s walls right there.

 

“We’re not going to leave you, Keith. I told you, we’re your family now.”

 

He nodded, tugging a bit at his hair while he figured out what to say next. “I know. Thank you. It really,  _ really _ means a lot.” He laughed softly. “Pidge called me her brother. Her  _ favourite _ brother, no less.” That had knocked him for a loop, after everything that happened. He trusted Lance’s honesty, had listened to what he’d said, but hearing it from someone else as well? Somehow that made it hit home. They were a family. He had a family now, brothers and sisters and whatever the hell Coran was. Uncle? Father? He didn’t remember his own well enough to be sure. And then there was Lance, who was something else entirely. Or could be. Maybe.

 

Lance snorted, but there was a smile in his voice, and warm affection. “She has good taste.” And oh, wow, Keith’s cheeks felt like they were going to bruise from the blushing.

 

“ _ Anyway, _ ” He coughed into his hand. “I’ve been thinking a lot lately. About the stuff Pidge said when she was hurt.”

 

“About the things she wanted to do with her life?”

 

“Yeah…” Keith kept his gaze down, tugging at the sheet beside him restlessly. The topic was still fresh and painful to think about, how hurt and scared she’d been. “She said one of the things she wanted to do was see what it was like to be in a relationship and fall in love and be loved back. And she thought she was never going to get the chance. She will, thank god, but, well, I’ve been thinking about it a lot.”

 

Silence hung heavy in the room now. Keith steadily didn’t look at Lance, but it seemed as though there was an odd tension that hadn’t been there before. Not a bad tension, strangely. Just a sense of waiting and uncertainty.

 

He took a deep breath. “I’m afraid to trust people, Lance, because they always end up leaving. But...I trust you. Probably more than I’ve ever trusted anyone besides Shiro. And after what happened to Pidge...it made me realize that if you’re afraid to reach for what you want, you might lose the chance to have it at all.” His heart was pounding in his chest. He knew he was rambling, stalling. He was scared to make the leap. But he wanted to.

 

“I guess what I’m trying to say, Lance, is I...I think I’m--”

 

A piercing siren ripped through the room, making his jaws snap together in surprise so hard his teeth rattled, and his head snapped up in dismay. Lance was also looking up, startled. That was the alarm for an emergency meeting. The blue paladin glanced over at him, expression entirely unreadable to Keith’s eyes. “Hold that thought, okay? We can pick it up again after.”

 

_ (In another time, this conversation does not happen like this, or so soon. For now, they continue to drift slowly together like black holes in orbit around each other, inevitable and inescapable.) _

 

________

 

It was still full dark when Iverson’s phone went off, rousing him from a sound sleep to full wakefulness with the ease of the old soldier. He grabbed for the device, holding it to his ear with one hand while groping for the bedside light with the other. “This is Iverson. What’s the situation?” At this ungodly hour, it had to be an emergency. They wouldn’t wake him so early for anything less.

 

He nodded along to the voice on the other end for a moment before the words registered and his eye snapped wide. “Luna substation Undarum reports  _ what _ in lunar orbit over Earth?!”

 

The message was repeated and Mitch swore colourfully and extensively in several languages. This was exactly what he’d been afraid of. It was too soon, they weren’t ready, not even close. But they had to try.

 

“Contact all Garrison branches and have them scramble every single fighter craft. Soldiers, cadet pilots, retirees, we’re going to need everything we can put into space. Full live combat loads. Special condition Kilo India Whiskey Niner Niner. Yes, you heard me! I’ll be in the command center in ten minutes to remotely brief the other bases on the situation.”

 

He broke the connection and headed for the closet that held his combat uniform. God, this was going to be a goddamn massacre. So much for Holt’s plan to expose the cover-ups and force the Galaxy Garrison to become something that could actually stand up to an alien invasion. The leaked files hadn’t had a chance to spread beyond the conspiracy forum section of the net yet. Now the whole thing was superfluous, cover-up and exposure both. Assuming they survived this, the whole fucking world was going to know that they were the furthest thing from alone.

 

_ (In another time, there is no one in a position to act on Luna’s transmission. The Galaxy Garrison and the American military are in political upheaval from the scandal over the exposed cover-ups, with most of the higher-ups sacked and no one left in charge.) _

 

________

 

Kolivan had just finished sending his warning to the Paladins when the Blade returned at a run, carrying the small box that for nearly as long as the Blades of Marmora existed had rested across from Marmora’s stone. It had never been opened before, not once in their ten thousand cycle history, but the records passed down through the generations made certain every leader knew exactly what it could do.

 

Flipping open the lid exposed a flat black surface, smooth and level except for an indentation in the surface the perfect size and shape to contain one of the stones set into the hilt of the knives given to every initiate.

 

The records of how it worked were long sealed by Marmora herself, along with how it had been made. It was said she had made it herself, using some secret method, along with the stones that contained her symbol. They were an emergency measure she had created, a last resort, the same weapons that marked their loyalty also being able to serve, in times like this, as a way to give warning to their fellows.

 

Kolivan pulled out his sword, allowing it to revert to dormant form, and used his claws to pry the stone from its hilt. The stone fit neatly into the indentation when he pressed it into place, and the Galra didn’t even have time to wonder what would happen before it did. The sigil lit up a brilliant green and he felt, deep in his bones, a sense of danger and warning.

 

All across the room, the other Blades present grabbed for their own weapons in surprised response to the same subtle signal, discovering that the stones on their own blades were glowing the same brilliant emerald shade. All across the Empire, their fellows would feel it as well, and know to get out immediately, however they could. Fall back. Preserve their work so far. And continue the fight anew.   
  
The leader of the Blades of Marmora could only hope that the warning had come in time to save the lives of his brothers and sisters.

 

_ (In another time, the box is never opened. There is no time. The Blades of Marmora die at their posts before they even know they are in danger.) _

 

________

 

“--scouts to all the likely targets we can think of and hope we find it.” Matt was saying, his fingers curled tightly around his sister’s.

 

“And if it’s not at any of them?” The Falling Tree’s pack leader growled.

 

“Then we come up with a new plan.”

 

Alejandro couldn’t hold still, moving restlessly around the bridge and fidgeting with whatever he could get his hands on. When the alarm sounded, he and Kurogane had been the first ones to arrive to find Allura already in conference with the various pack leaders about what to do next. The shipyard where the Weblum’s Breath had been built had been found--too late. It was already deployed, bearing down on some unsuspecting planet, and terror thrilled through him. They were supposed to be preventing this! And yet no matter how hard they tried, things just seemed to keep getting worse. From the damn thing being built early to Pidge nearly dying (and god, he would never forgive himself for that, she was so  _ small _ now, so much younger than Holt had been when they lost her, and he knew this would affect her forever, nearly dying did that to a person, he should know) to  _ this _ . All he could do was pray--

 

“Princess, incoming transmission.” Coran’s voice cut across the discussion. Alejandro’s heart dropped through the floor. Even as Allura requested a momentary hold on the discussion and told the older Altean to play the message, he  _ knew _ . Knew what the message would say.

 

“ _ Paladins. _ ” Kolivan was speaking rapidly, tones clipped and looking almost  _ afraid _ . Everything had gone to hell in a handbasket if  _ he _ was showing fear. “ _ The world-breaker is loose, and accompanied by an armada. System coordinates X-9-Y-L23. Third world. I will send what help I can but my people are compromised and I must recall them. Good luck. May Marmora guide you. _ ”

 

Those coordinates. The ones engraved into his very soul.

 

No. No no no no  _ no _ .

 

The buzzing in his ears drowned out the ensuing discussion among the pack leaders. He felt sick and he couldn’t breathe. Please God no. Not Earth. Not again. He couldn’t live that again. He felt himself being held tightly by familiar arms and stifled a broken cry in the chest in front of him.

 

“Sh, sh, ‘lejo, it’s okay. We won’t let it happen again. We’re not alone this time. We can do it. Sh, babe. I’ve got you.” Slowly Kurogane’s voice filtered through and he latched onto the reassurances desperately. He forced himself to suck in a deep breath, then another. He couldn’t fight if he was hyperventilating. Fight first, break down once it was over. One of the first rules of survival. Refocus.

 

“Commencing wormholes in five minutes.” Shiiar’keh was saying.

 

“Paladins, get to your lions. Prepare for battle.”

 

_ (In another time, it is not Kolivan who warns them but the Castle’s scanners as they pass through a galaxy much closer to the Milky Way. Alejandro-who-was-Lance does not panic, then, not like this, because they do not yet know what it is that lies in orbit over Earth as they head to defend their home.) _

 

________

 

Yellow rumbled soothingly in Hunk’s head as they launched, feeling his fear and agitation. This was like nothing they’d ever done before in their year and a few months as Paladins. They were knowingly, willingly heading straight into a fight where they would be massively outnumbered and outgunned, without any semblance of a plan and barely any knowledge of exactly what they’d be facing. And the stakes, for the Humans, at least, were higher than they’d ever been.

 

The Castle of Lions’ wormhole flared to life in front of them and he dove towards it, falling in line at the left end of the formation as he did so. From here he could see Green ahead of him, Blue far to his right  behind Red, and Black in the centre.

 

Aqua light passed over them, then purple, then aqua again, and then they were there.

 

For over a year he’d thought about what it would be like to see Earth again. The familiar shapes of the continents, the blue seas, the swirls of white clouds.

 

He’d never once imagined it with a massive fleet of Empire ships standing between him and home.

 

_ (In another time, this is when the fear hits.) _

 

________

 

Kovirak sprinted through the maze of hallways that made up the interior of the Weblum’s Breath. For all its size the ship’s crew was relatively tiny, and made up largely of sentries. Having shed her distinctive Lieutenant’s armor in favour of the more concealing set she’d stolen off a rank and file soldier, she passed largely unchallenged as she tried to locate the mechanisms that operated the great weapon.

 

Alarms blared overhead and she paused, looking up. Combat sirens, not a warning about her presence. Voltron was here.

 

_ (In another time, Kovirak is not aboard this ship. She has served her purpose to the leaders of the Empire. She learns of the Weblum’s Breath’s deployment and destination from the soldiers of Central Command and flees, desperate to save her cub. _

 

_ She arrives too late, her ship hanging over the broken stones of Earth as she turns her claws on herself in her guilt and despair.) _

 

________

 

“--you’ll be up against. These are known hostile aliens. They’re what actually happened to the crew of the Kerberos mission.” Iverson could only imagine the reactions his words were generating in the fighter spacecraft scattered across the country. The communications were one way. They could see him, but he couldn’t see any of them as he delivered blow after blow. “I’m sorry to say you’re going to be outclassed, outnumbered, and outgunned, but goddamn it, we--”

 

“Sir!” A soldier burst into the conference room, chest heaving from running. “We just had another transmission from Luna!”

 

“Son of a bitch, what now?” Iverson didn’t bother muting the mike as he turned to deal with the new crisis. As if there weren’t already enough K-vessels in orbit to blow them all to pieces and be home in time for breakfast. Not to mention that huge ship that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. A sheaf of paper was thrust into his hands, and he looked down at them.

 

Photos. With time of the essence, Luna had obviously decided that a picture was worth a thousand words. The first showed a cluster of blue portals, the likes of which he’d only seen once before, a year ago and much smaller. In the second, ships were emerging from the portals. Not K-vessels. These were dark and star-patterned, of a completely different structural design, as were the fighter ships already swarming around them. And in the third, a close up to compensate for their much smaller size, a smaller portal disgorged five colourful vessels in the shape of lions. Black, red, green, yellow, and a familiar blue.

 

A memory flashed through his mind, a robotic blue lion streaking over the desert before disappearing towards space.

 

“Are these newcomers on our side?” He demanded. The second K-vessel had tried to go after the blue lion the first time. Did that mean the two were enemies?

 

The soldier saluted, relief in his eyes. “Luna reports the second group of vessels opening fire on the K-vessels as soon as they arrived!”

 

Thank fucking god. Maybe, just maybe, they had a chance. Iverson turned back to the mic he’d been using to brief the pilots at the various bases. “Good news, boys and girls. Looks like we’ve got some friends up there after all.”

 

_ (In another time, there is no one to rally the pilots of Earth, and no allies ready to be called on. Voltron arrives alone, and they fight alone to protect their home.) _

 

_______

 

The morning-star lights of the ships may have gone unnoticed at first from the ground, but the laser flashes and rapid movements of combat did not. Across the side of the world under the space-borne battle more and more pairs of eyes turned skyward, along with telescopes and satellite dishes, toward where the lights danced and flashed.

 

It took only minutes before the first images of the spacecraft hit the news, an armada of purple against a brave handful of star-flecked navy and a single small white with their entourages of fighters, and, standing out brightly in the middle of it all, five colorful robotic lions leading the charge.

 

_ (In another time, this plays out the same.) _

 

_________

 

Rosa McClain-Martinez lit the little candle and stepped back slightly, bowing her head as she murmured soft prayers under her breath. In front of her, the flame reflected off the glass of the photo frame, glaring out part of Lance’s orange-and-white cadet uniform but doing nothing to conceal the brightness of his proud, excited smile. Finishing her prayer, she pressed her fingers to her lips, then touched her fingertips to the photo.

 

He’d been so happy to have made it into the Garrison, and their whole family had been so proud of his big hopes and how hard he worked to achieve them. His piloting career was a labour of love from a boy with so much love to give, and they’d done their best to support and encourage him. And then the training accident happened, and just like that he was gone along with all his dreams. A year and a few months had done nothing to reduce the pain of the loss, to close the hole in their family where her second son should have been. 

 

A prayer for his spirit to find happiness among the stars he had loved so much had become part of her daily ritual, one of the only things that helped her get through the day with the grief she still carried in her heart.

 

A commotion from outside distracted her. Edmundo was yelling for her. Something about bright lights in the sky? He and Fernan and Mariposa should have been on the bus to school by now. Blowing out the candle, she hurried to the door to see what was going on.

 

_ (In another time, it is four more months before Rosa receives a phone call from her second eldest daughter, Zelia, living in New York with her girlfriend. Zelia is in tears like Rosa hasn’t heard from her child since Lance’s funeral, and her voice is thick with anger. _

 

_ “The Garrison lied to us, Mami. I saw it on the news. There was no training accident.” _

 

_ By the time the end comes Rosa McClain-Martinez knows the full story, and her voice is one of the loudest in Colleen Holt’s call for action against the liars who let families ache and grieve for children who were not killed after all. When the world burns her last thought is for her lost son, fighting high over her head, and a prayer that he will live long and happily among the stars he always loved.) _

 

_________

 

With the battle raging so close by, it was child’s play for Human technology to pick up the ship-to-ship transmissions overhead, and alien voices followed the images of the ships onto the news. Most were impossible to understand, dozens of different languages in a thousand different voices. Then--

 

_ “Pidge! Watch your six!” _

 

_ “Son of a vrekking motherfuck--Fucking hell. Thanks, Keith.” _

 

English. Human English among alien babble. The people latched onto it, trying to identify the voices that were calling orders to each other and to their allies in the midst of the conflict above.

 

They identified Takashi Shirogane first, the supposedly two-years-dead prodigy pilot of the ill-fated Kerberos mission. It was easy enough, he had often been the spokesperson for news pieces about the project, and many remembered his voice. It had an air of command now, though, that no one remembered it having before. The voice Matthew Holt took only slightly longer, the mission’s young xenobiologist/medic dictating strategy as though he’d been born to it.

 

(The absence of the voice of Commander Samuel Holt did not go unnoticed.)

 

The others were harder, but the names quickly gave three of them away. Pidge Gunderson. Lance McClain-Martinez. Hunk Garrett. The names of the three students claimed to have been killed in a training accident a year after Kerberos. Bodies never recovered. Not dead after all, and fighting a battle high over the Earth.

 

The sixth voice took the longest, but as word spread he was identified too, by a cadet home on leave. Keith Kogane. The genius flyer that Shirogane had mentored, kicked out of the Garrison for discipline issues after the older man’s death. Back in the air in an alien craft, and working alongside his mentor once more.

 

Their faces plastered the news, overlaid with a live feed of their voices as they fought to defend their home.

 

_ (In another time, this, too, plays out much the same way. But after the exposure of the Garrison’s cover-ups and Colleen Holt’s theories, the identification is faster and the surprise is much less. After all, there are only seven Humans out there. The choices are limited for who the five voices above them could be.) _

 

__________

 

The shrill electronic tones of Fetuilelagi Garrett’s phone roused her, the foreign pop song blaring loudly in the room. As she often did, she reminded herself to get Hunk’s help undoing his little sister’s mischief next time he was home on leave before she remembered once more that he never would be. Not anymore.

 

The familiar ache settled in her heart once more as she sat up and grabbed the phone, slipping out of the room so as not to wake La’ei. A glance at the screen showed that it was her brother, Henare, who worked the night shift as a security guard. But why would he be calling her at this hour when he should be at work? She accepted the call, cutting off the song that she didn’t have the heart to change, and pressed the device to her ear. “This is Fetuilelagi.”

 

_ “Fetu, I’m sorry for waking you but it’s important.” _ Henare sounded shaken. That was strange. He was usually so relaxed. “ _ Go turn on the news, right away.” _

 

“What channel?” Not so strange, then. Maybe there was a tsunami warning she needed to know about. Their house was well back from the shore, but you never knew. She headed down the stairs to the darkened living room.

 

_ “Any of them. One that plays American news would be better, though. _ ”

 

Humming an acknowledgement, Fetu turned on the TV and flipped it from the channel La’ei had been watching her soaps on earlier to the main news channel. A second later the remote clattered to the ground as she covered her mouth in shock. Her dead son’s face stared back at her, along with those of the other two cadets who’d been killed in the same accident and three others she didn’t recognize at all. There was video footage of--were those spaceships? And over it all, voices, the crackle of static suggesting that this was a live feed.

 

_ “Thanks for the save, Lance.” _

 

_ “No problem, buddy.” _

 

Her son. Alive.

 

_ (In another time, it is La’ei who first sees the news footage of the scandals rocking the space branch of the American military, who breaks down in tears over their lies. She tells Fetuilelagi, who tells Henare, who tells others, and soon all of Samoa knows what has happened to one of the sons of the islands. An outraged Samoa becomes one of the first nations to try to create its own space military branch to defend their planet if the purple ships return. _

 

_ Their first spacecraft has not yet been built when they do. _

 

_ Fetuilelagi and La’ei Garrett die when the world shatters, thanking the ancestors that at least one of their children will survive this.) _

 

__________

 

“--when you get up there, your commanding officer will be the pilot of the Black Lion, Takashi Shirogane. Good luck and Godspeed, men.”

 

The briefing broadcast cut off and thousands of pilots were left to their own thoughts as the first groups of craft were signalled to taxi out to the runways. As they did so they could see the sky through their clear canopies, the lights that they now knew to be alien spaceships locked in battle high overhead bright in the dawn light. A brilliant streak blazed across the sky, some massive beam weapon the likes of which none of them had ever seen.

 

The lead pilots tightened their hands on their control columns. Earth was their home and dammit, they would defend it. Massive engines revved, and the first wings of the meager spaceforce shot down the runways.

 

_ (In another time, some pilots do try to get to their craft and launch to join the fight. But the Garrison branches have been locked down over the scandals, until new administration can be chosen, and security is tight. Only a handful make it into the air. _

 

_ All are shot down by Empire fighters before they ever leave the atmosphere.) _

 

________

 

The roar of massive jet engines overhead jolted Colleen and Ryou from a sound sleep, the latter toppling right off the couch and onto the floor with a yelp and rubbing his head where it glanced off a side table. 

 

Struggling to her feet, Colleen scrambled to the window and looked out, inhaling sharply as she processed what she was seeing. “Holy shit. Ryou...I hate to say you were right, but...I think you were right.” There was some emotion in her voice that he couldn’t quite identify. Fear? It sounded so out of place from such an indomitable woman, and sent alarm spiralling into the pit of his stomach. Ryou stumbled to his feet and joined her at the window. A dozen fresh spacecraft launch trails streaked through the sky, painted pink and orange by the sunlight just peering over the horizon. Even as he watched, a second formation blasted past with a deafening roar, repainting the cloud trails as they headed for orbit. The trails did little to hide the dancing lights high overhead, the flashes and streaks of distant but massive weapons. A battle already in progress, far above the atmosphere.

 

“...Well...shit. If there was ever a time to wish I wasn’t, this is it.” He ran a hand through his messy bed head, then startled as Colleen spun away from her spot beside him at the window and flipped open the laptop on the desk. A few keystrokes brought up a stream of a news channel, and his eyes widened at the sight of a multicoloured machine that until now he’d only seen in ten-thousand-year-old cave drawings, streaking across the stars toward huge purple warships. Voices overlaid the feed, ones that he knew from security footage and official broadcasts and ones that he’d heard in person years earlier.

 

“...They’re up there.” Colleen breathed, head turning rapidly between the images and the photos on the board. “Our families are up there! Come on, we have to get to the Garrison. They’re the only ones with broadcasting tech that’ll let us reach them.” Slapping the laptop closed again, she grabbed it, her phone, and her car keys with shaking hands before heading for the door. After a moment, Ryou followed. Slipping into the driver’s seat, she glanced over at him as he fumbled with his phone. “What are you doing?”

 

He pressed the device to his ear, listening to it ring. “Calling my parents. They deserve to know about Takashi from me, not the news. Get driving.”

 

She nodded, shifting the car into gear and pulling out of the driveway with a squeal of tires as more fighting-ready spacecraft streaked over the desert. Turning sharply, Colleen pushed the pedal to the floor and sped across the desert in the direction they had come from. Beside her, Ryou’s gaze remained fixed on the sky as he silently hoped this time he would have the chance to talk to his cousin once more.

 

_ (In another time, Ryou Shirogane and Colleen Holt do not make it to the Arizona Garrison before the Weblum’s Breath fires. They burn knowing Takashi and Katie will have each other if no one else, and Colleen’s last desperate hope as she dies is that she is the only one of her family that her daughter loses forever.) _

 

__________

 

The news spread like wildfire around the world, by phone and internet and international television broadcasts. Those who were under the battle raging overhead kept their eyes to the skies. Those who were not followed the millions of live streams from cameras and telescopes. A planet of billions held its breath, praying for their defenders to succeed against seemingly insurmountable odds.

 

_ (In another time, they lose.) _


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No specific warnings for this chapter.
> 
> Sorry this took a while, guys. Chapter 35 just did not want to happen, and I'm still not totally happy with it. If my brain would have cooperated better, I wish I could have speed-written it in like a day because that's how much I appreciate the incredible response to last chapter. Seriously, that single chapter is the most-commented thing I have ever written, here or on ffnet, and I think I almost cried. I love you guys. Thank you so much for your support.
> 
> Also, in light of season 4, my story's version of Voltron seems a bit...underpowered by comparison. Thing is, I did some research (Read: argued with google images for two hours trying to find a specific screencap) and Voltron just plain shouldn't be big enough relative to a cruiser to 1-hit KO them even with the sword. So. Yeah. Not gonna be quite canon-compliant there.
> 
> Finally, the last line of this chapter was thought of way back around when chapter 10 was being written. I have waited 25 chapters to drop it on y'all. I can't wait.

Kurogane snarled angrily, sending his defense drone spinning through space after a pair of Empire fighters that were getting too close to the Castle of Lions for comfort. A few quick blasts from the drone’s weapons tore them into a cloud of debris, and he refocused, looking instinctively for the next threat. For just a moment, though, the area around the Castle was clear, affording him an uninterrupted view through the holographic screens of the battle that raged all around them.

 

Warships traded heavy weapons fire back and forth, blinding streaks of condensed energy and plasma that tore burning holes in shields and hulls where they struck and disintegrated any smaller craft unfortunate enough to fail to get out of the way. Even as he watched another blast lanced through the clouds of embattled fighters from the nearest Icebringer vessel, ripping open an Empire assault ship and leaving it a drifting hulk amidst the chaos before the dogfighting singleships hid it from view once more.

 

Although much of the battlefield was similarly obscured, Kurogane could still follow the flow of the fight. While Allura and Coran operated the ship’s main particle beam and he and Alejandro used the defense drones to protect the Castle, Matt was at the communications console, maintaining a strategic conference with the pack leaders of the Icebringer ships and the paladins in their Lions. With so many ships in play visibility on the field was severely limited, and the entire resistance found itself relying heavily on Hunk and his BLIP-sense to coordinate their attacks effectively and protect their fighters. Even as he listened, Kurogane could hear the yellow paladin calling for concentrated fire toward one of the dreadnoughts blocking their path, rattling off the relative targeting angles for each ship easily using the hastily-assigned grid system that marked off the part of the battlefield that was within his range.

 

Searing white streaked across his vision again, and Kurogane hastily closed his eyes against the brilliance as the Icebringer pack ships responded to the request. He was still blinking spots away as a burst of colourful language from Pidge told him that the attack had failed to properly breach the defensive line of the Empire’s main ships.

 

There were just too many. Every time the resistance fighters, led by the Voltron Lions, tried to break through to go after the Weblum’s Breath, they found themselves easily rebuffed. The heavy particle cannons could only take out so many ships at a time, especially the larger dreadnoughts and cruisers, and every time they cleared a gap it was filled again before they could take advantage, their advance cut off by the weapons of neighbouring vessels. There were enough Empire warships here to wipe out the Icebringers without a second thought, which only made the situation worse because they were doing nothing of the sort.

 

It had been just like this last time, too, with the Empire easily keeping them at bay and only making a token effort to hurt them until it was too late.

 

Trying to ignore the ominously ticking clock hanging over them all, the former red paladin sent his drone spinning outward again to intercept another cluster of enemy fighters, Alejandro’s taking its place beside it.

 

__________

 

Shiro grimaced at Pidge’s outburst as he used Black’s jaw blade to rip apart a fighter in his path, privately agreeing with the sentiment. The enemy machines swarmed around them, harassing them and distracting them from concentrating their efforts on taking out the main ships. “This isn’t working. We need a new strategy. Pidge, you and Hunk were working on some predictions for the merged bayards, weren’t you?”

 

“ _ Yeah, but we--fucking quiznack!” _ The Green Lion spun out of the way of a cluster of small attackers, following up with a mouth cannon blast, then another towards a group that was bothering the Yellow Lion.  _ “We don’t have enough data to make very good guesses yet.” _

 

_ “Better than nothing. What do you suggest?” _ Keith put in as Red blazed past, leading a group of Icebringer fighters on a strafing run down a battlecruiser’s side that sprayed smoke and debris into space.

 

There was a momentary hesitation from the youngest paladin.  _ “Well...leaving out the yellow bayard options so Hunk can focus on his BLIP-sense...there’s a few combos I think we should try but I don’t know what we’ll get. They may turn out to be too risky with our allies all over the place.” _

 

The concern was a valid one, friendly fire a distinct possibility in these crowded combat conditions, but taking out the warships needed to be their first consideration. “Cross that bridge when we come to it, Pidge.” Every minute longer it took to breach the line, the Weblum’s Breath was another minute closer to firing, and more of their allies were killed. They were already hugely outnumbered, and it was only getting worse. “Shiiar’keh, have the fighters give us cover! Form Voltron!”

 

The Icebringer fighters surged forward ahead of the lions, their weapons blazing to keep their Empire counterparts away from them long enough for them to form the legendary defender. The pull was immediate and familiar in Shiro’s mind, Black growling welcome to her sisters and brothers, both Lion and Paladin, as the machines came together with practiced ease. After so many times, they formed Voltron as easily as they breathed, and it was thankfully only moments before they were bursting free of the protective ring with the sword already forming for the first strike. Tearing at the shield of the closest cruiser, it took far longer than Shiro liked to do enough damage to disable it. They definitely needed something stronger if they were going to have any chance at all.

 

“Pidge, first suggestion, please!” He ordered as Voltron twisted out of the way of an ion cannon blast, trying to ignore the flare of light as it skimmed the edge of Earth’s atmosphere in the distance. The battle had drifted, closer to the planet than her moon now. It was just lucky most of the heavy fire was being directed at an angle, rather than directly toward the surface.

 

_ “U-Um...blue and black! Since black modified basic red before, made it more powerful, I’m hoping that we’ll get something similar if we combine--” _

 

_ “Breathe, Pidge.” _ Lance cut her off gently, tone affectionate even if it was slightly strained.  _ “ We trust you. Blue and black combo coming up!” _

 

Without needing to be told twice, Shiro plunged his bayard into the slot in Black’s control panel. He felt the familiar tug at his quintessence and watched as it solidified in Voltron’s hands into something that looked like a slightly boxier version of the rifle usually formed by the blue bayard. Nothing new on his control panel, the weapon controls must be in Lance’s cockpit for this one. “How’s it looking, Lance? What’d we get?”

 

Instead of answering out loud, the weapon lifted into firing position, sighting on the closest warship for just a moment before three blasts of blue energy spat from the barrel one after another. They stitched a line across the ship’s hull, and when the smoke cleared Shiro could see massive ice crystals protruding from large rents in the purple hull. Any other time the blue paladin would have been whooping with delight at the result, instead of staying silent like he was now, but right now, the black paladin knew that Lance was thinking what they all were. Still not strong enough.

 

“Keep trying.” He ordered. “Pidge, next combination.”

 

________

 

Lance let out a frustrated whine, hands tightening to a white-knuckled grip on Blue’s controls. Nothing was working.

 

They’d tried a handful of different bayard combinations, each less successful than the last. After the ice gun was red and green’s flexible sword; black, red, and blue’s bow and burning arrows; and black, blue, and green’s electrified harpoon. They’d even pulled Hunk away from tracking the battle with his BLIP-sense in the hopes that the yellow bayard, with its massive cannon as its base form, would add the extra power they needed when combined with the others. They’d been right--adding the yellow bayard turned the blue and black ice gun into something Shiro called a strakkaker that sprayed thousands of glinting shards and lacerated the side of a cruiser along half its length, shattering the shield, destroying weaponry and venting atmosphere into space--but the controls for that one ended up in the yellow lion’s cockpit and Hunk’s distraction cost them more than they gained as he missed a firing line being cleared by Empire fighters before another ship’s ion cannon ripped through a group of their own allies to do heavy damage to one of the pack ships. They deactivated that weapon and let Hunk return his attention to the flow of the battle, but they could all feel each other’s frustration through the bond.

 

_ “This is bad.” _ Pidge’s voice sounded as strained as he felt as Voltron made another pass with red and black’s burning sword, Icebringer fighters dumping weapon’s fire into the gash they left behind while concentrated particle beam fire ripped apart the next warship over. An ion cannon blast cut in front of them from a ship further over, blocking the gap.  _ “Lance, how much longer do we have before the damn thing fires?” _

 

He blinked at the unexpected question. “What? How the quiznack should I know?” He demanded, pushing at his controls to guide the robot through another sharp turn. A fighter streaked past him and he made Voltron kick it to ease some of his frustration, shattering it into shards of metal debris.

 

_ “That dream you told Hunk about! How long did it take?!” _

 

Why was she going on about that as a time like this? “It was just a dream, Pidge!” Lance gritted his teeth. One that he really, really did not want to think about right now. It had been hovering in the back of his mind ever since the warning from Kolivan, and it was taking everything he had not to break down screaming at how close they were to it coming true.

 

There was a moment’s pause broken only by the chatter of the strategists in the background.  _ “...I don’t think it was. Lance, you seem to have some sort of mental link to Alejandro. Those nightmares you’ve been having aren’t nightmares, they’re memories.  _ His _ memories.” _

 

Lance spluttered, and Voltron stumbled for a moment before recovering as he managed to get back in step with a distracted Hunk. “A mental link?  _ Memories? _ Pidge, what the hell?” He’d seen the green paladin come up with some out-there theories to explain things before, but  _ this _ ? 

 

_ “There isn’t time to explain, but I’m almost certain that’s what’s been going on. Lance, how long did the Weblum’s Breath take to fire?” _

 

“...I...I don’t know.” He drew in a shaky breath. If Pidge was right (and she usually was)...the dream had begun after the fight had already started. “I didn’t...the dream didn’t show the whole thing.”

 

She let out an exasperated noise, spinning the left arm out to block an attack from a group of Empire fighters with the shield.  _ “Then check!” _

 

Before he could snap back demanding to know exactly how he was supposed to do that, Blue touched his mind and he calmed at her familiar energy, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes. “Help me out here, girl.” He murmured softly. They needed to know, right away. The clock was ticking and they had no idea when it would run out. A little more loudly, he grumbled “Pidge, you better be right about this.” And if she was, well...they’d deal with the implications later.

 

Blue rumbled gently, nudging at his mind a little more insistently. He allowed her to guide him. It felt oddly similar to when he meditated to deepen their bond, reaching deeper towards her core, but not quite the same. Almost like he was doubling back on himself and going into his own head, but again, a little different.

 

Images flashed through his head, nudged toward him by the Lion. Memories that weren’t his, differing in the details from what they’d seen and done only a couple hours before. Dots on the Castle’s scanners, the bright flare of a single wormhole. Ships, hanging in space between himself and Earth. Fighting, desperately fighting. Blinding purple light.

 

With a gasp, he surfaced from the memory before the remembered agony and grief could overwhelm him. “Two vargas. It fired two vargas after we--they arrived.” The knowledge was there, tied together in his head with the other parts of the memory, the fear and the blinding light and his (Alejandro’s?) own scream in his ears.

 

_ “...Fuck.” _

 

Lance couldn’t help but agree, his gut twisting painfully as he stared past the Empire warships at the distant Weblum’s Breath. More than half of that two vargas was already gone.

 

________

 

_ “--group in F-12 need support, they’re getting boxed in, losing people in A-3 fast, too--” _

 

Matt’s hands gripped the edge of the console tightly and he gritted his teeth in helpless frustration as he listened to the pack leaders redirecting this or that group of fighters in response to Hunk’s assessments of the situation. Despite the yellow paladin’s efforts, they were steadily losing fighters and not making any headway. Lance’s revelation at the time limit they were up against had ratcheted the already incredible tension still higher, and it was starting to look as though they weren’t going to be able to beat the clock. Even as he watched an ion cannon blast pierced the hull of the Sliding Snow, tearing metal and venting air, and pack leader Kolska’aa dropped without warning from the comlink. He hoped desperately it was only a communications failure.

 

_ “Crap! Just lost a group of Empire fighters off the edge of G-1! Matt, where’d they go?” _

 

Instantly, his hands flew over the keyboard, bringing up the scanners and searching the system for the group that had left the range of Hunk’s ability to sense them. He found them, moving fast away from the battle, plotted their course--

 

“ _ Vrekt!” _ He grabbed for the coms again. “Takashi, we’ve got a group of fighters headed for Mars, the Icebringer fighters aren’t fast enough to intercept before they get there, we need the Red Lion!” A series of loud beeps from the scanners diverted Matt’s attention from the black paladin’s reply. Turning back to the display, he saw the indicator lights of a huge group of fighters, almost double their own forces, approaching the battle from the direction of Earth. “Son of a fuck, what now?” If that was more Empire craft, then every hope they had had just gone down the drain.

 

_ “Matt, what’s going on?” _ He could hear the concern in Shiro’s voice even over the racket of various combat alarms in the Castle’s main deck.

 

“We’ve got incoming. Several thousand fighters, I can’t see what their affiliation is from here. Hunk, they’ll be on the edge of L-40 in a minute, how fucked are we?”

 

There was a moment’s tense silence, the comlink filled with the chatter of pack leaders passing orders to their squadrons of Hunters. Then, startled:  _ “Oh my god, they’re Human!” _ A wild laugh.  _ “Matt, it’s all Human pilots in those ships!” _

 

_ “Shiro, I can see them from here. It’s the Galaxy Garrison!” _ The shock and disbelief in the Red Paladin’s tone was palpable, like he didn’t know whether to be outraged or relieved.

 

Matt let out a slightly hysterical laugh, leaning heavily on the edge of the console for support and watching as the cloud of desperately-needed reinforcements swept into view on his screens. “Holy shit. I never thought I’d be this glad to see that stupid logo in my life.”

 

________

 

_ “Takashi, we’ve got a group of fighters headed for Mars, the Icebringers aren’t fast enough to intercept before they get there, we need the Red Lion!” _

 

For a split second, Shiro hesitated. Sending Keith after those fighters meant breaking Voltron apart, weakening their strength in their efforts to break through to get at the Weblum’s Breath. But even disregarding their duty to protect, if the worst happened and they didn’t succeed in breaking through in time, the people living in the scientific bases on Mars and Luna would be the difference between losing their home and losing their species as well. It was a chance they couldn’t afford to take.

 

Voltron spun apart into the five Lions once more. “Go get ‘em, Keith.” He ordered.

 

The Red Lion was gone from view in an instant, blazing across the battlefield under the full power of her ion boosters. Shiro turned his attention back to the fight around him just in time to hear Matt’s alarmed cursing over the coms, fresh fear twisting in his gut. “Matt, what’s going on?”

 

A moment later Hunk’s revelation that the pilots were Human and Keith’s stunned identification of them as Garrison fighter craft left him reeling. After the way he’d been treated during his mercifully-brief stint in Garrison custody on his return to Earth over a year earlier, he would never have expected such a quick response to the warships overhead. They must have started scrambling almost as soon as the Empire ships arrived. But thank god they had, right now those ships might make all the difference in the world. Literally. He barely had time to pull himself together enough to fake composure before he found himself being hailed and accepted the new connection into the comlink.

 

_ “This is Major Coleman of the Ohio branch of Galaxy Garrison, speaking on behalf of all the pilots of Earth.” _ The pilot’s voice was remarkably steady under the circumstances. They all must have spent their entire orbital insertion flight wrapping their heads around the fact that they were going up to do battle with alien warships in orbit around their home planet, especially considering there was no way they could have known before the whole thing started.  _ “Looks to me like you guys could use some help. What are your orders, Pilot Shirogane?” _

 

He took a deep breath, letting out a shaky little laugh. “On behalf of the Voltron Alliance, are we ever glad to see you guys. Think you can help us run the blockade so we can go after big mama over there?” He knew relief was making him sound a bit silly, but dammit, maybe, just maybe they had a chance after all.

 

_ “If that’s what you need, sir, we’ll be happy to oblige.” _ There was a trace of laughter in Coleman’s voice, but he was all business.  _ “You have a specific strategy in mind?” _

 

“Matt Holt is acting as our primary strategist. Matt?”

 

_ “Coleman, are your wings fully loaded?” _ Matt’s voice was a lot steadier now than it had been moments earlier, and Shiro had no doubt he already had a plan in mind for their newly-bolstered forces.

 

_ “Loaded and armed. Nuclear-tipped missile rounds.” _

 

_ “Good. We’re on a time limit, and we don’t have time to dick around with subtlety. Our strategy is ‘blast enough of the fuckers out of the sky to let us get through the defensive line.’” _

 

There was the briefest of pauses as Coleman digested this.  _ “Understood. At your discretion, sir.” _

 

Shiro took a deep breath, turning Black to face the blockade lines again. “Hunk, stay here. They need your BLIP-sense and we need speed. Pidge, Lance, you’re with me. Get ready.”

 

_ “Can do, Shiro.” _ Hunk was nervous but calm. He couldn’t help but be proud of how far the anxious teen had come.

 

_ “Gotcha, boss.”  _ Still strained, but he could hear the ghost of a grin in Lance’s voice nonetheless with their newfound hope.

 

_ “Ready to kick some Weblum’s Breath ass, Shiro.”  _ Katie’s voice was almost a snarl, nothing but determination in her tone.

 

He breathed deeply and pushed his controls forward, Black roaring in response. “Alright, then. Let’s go!”

 

________

 

Fresh determination surged through the resistance fighters, their courage bolstered by the arrival of several thousand reinforcements. The hunt-call snarled across the coms as they gathered their forces, concentrating them for just a moment on a single section of the shield of Empire warships separating them from the huge, deadly weapon.

 

Particle beams ripped across the battlefield, tearing through Empire fighters before pounding into two cruisers directly beside each other. Earth fighters widened the gap as their missiles punched holes in three assault ships and another cruiser. And the Voltron Lions and the remaining Icebringer fighters laid waste to a dreadnought with cannons and claws. Fire and metal scattered across space, and when the dust cleared, all seven ships hung dead in space, weapons silent and lights dark.

 

For just a moment, the line was broken. They were through.

 

_______

 

Green growled under Pidge’s hands as she streaked toward to Weblum’s Breath, Blue and Black visible beside her. Most of the fighters had been left in their wake, protecting them from attack from behind by the rest of the warships defending the weapon. The giant ship looked deceptively tranquil, hanging silently in space with the bright marble of Earth behind it.

 

_ “That thing is enormous.” _ Lance whispered as they drew closer.  _ “How are we supposed to destroy it in time?” _

 

Pidge studied the massive machine apprehensively, chewing on her lip. Lance’s concern was well-warranted. It was easily as large as the core of Command Central, and the weapon itself was well-protected with the way it ran through the ship’s centre instead of being mounted on top or on the front. “...I don’t think we could destroy that thing if we tried. It’s too big. Not without Voltron, anyway, and it would still take too long.”

 

There was a soft sigh on the coms.  _ “Unfortunately, Pidge is right, Lance. We’re going to have to get inside and sabotage it somehow.” _

 

_ “Sabotage a weapon the size of Manhattan? We don’t even know how it works!” _

 

The main console beeped at her, and she blinked. “Green? What’s up, girl?”

 

A new holoscreen opened up, overlaid with her main one, a glowing green box around the Weblum’s Breath ahead. A moment later a detailed diagram of the ship scrawled across the screen, some sections highlighted and detailed with text. Her eyes widened as the image shifted to an exploded view. A rough blueprint, and a description of the functionality of the weapon. “Holy shit...Green, since when can you do that?” She gave a delighted laugh, running a finger over part of the diagram.

 

_ “Do what, Pidge?” _ Shiro called in surprise.  _ “Another aspect?” _

 

“I think so, yeah.” Pidge grinned from ear to ear. Her Lion was nudging memories forward again, informing her that all her hard work piecing together the strange mental link between the blue paladins had had an unexpected benefit above and beyond a way to find out their time limit in this fight. She was thoroughly pleased with her clever little paladin, getting another aspect so soon after the first. Pidge blushed at the warm approval she could feel in the bond, and patted the armrest affectionately. “Combative characteristic, apparently. Green just gave me a scan of the Weblum’s Breath that shows how it works.” She studied the diagram again. “Looks like our best bet is something called an almathium lattice. Smashing the nodes will disable the machine completely. Judging by the size, that’s gonna have to be Lance’s job with his blaster.”

 

_ “Shoot out the nodes of the almathium lattice. Can do.” _

 

_ “Well done, Pidge. Where is the lattice?” _

 

“Um...pretty much dead centre of the ship.” She grimaced. “If we enter...here…” She pinpointed a spot on the diagram, having Green transmit it to the other two Lions, “there’s a main corridor that should get us there fairly quickly.”

 

Shiro hummed thoughtfully.  _ “Looks good to me. Although with just three of us--” _

 

The black paladin’s voice was abruptly drowned out by a frantic discussion over the open link between Major Coleman, Matt, and two of the pack leaders. Something about spreading their forces too thin versus duty? After another moment’s listening, Pidge realized what was going on. Another group of enemy fighters had diverted away from the main fighting and was headed for Luna with her network of vulnerable habitat domes scattered across the lunar surface, in a bid to stretch the resistance’s forces too thin to maintain their strike on the Weblum’s Breath. She could practically hear the wheels turning in Shiro’s head all the way from here as he considered the problem. They had to stop the weapon, but they couldn’t just sacrifice the people on Luna to do it.

 

_ “Matt, I’m sending Pidge back to help protect the Luna domes. Lance and I can manage the Weblum’s Breath. Keith, how are things at Mars?” _

 

_ “All cleaned up, Shiro. On my way back now. I’ll be there in a few minutes to help with Luna.” _ Keith responded immediately, anticipating their leader’s order.

 

Pidge frowned, reluctant to leave the other two to deal with the deadly weapon alone. “Shiro…”

 

_ “Pidge.”  _ There was a soft sigh from the older man.  _ “We can handle this. Luna needs to be protected too. And…” _ He hesitated.  _ “It’s going to be very dangerous. Remember, I don’t have the weaponized prosthetic anymore. I can protect one of you more easily than two, and we need Lance on this mission.” _

 

She opened her mouth to protest that she was perfectly capable of protecting herself against soldiers of the Galra Empire. Abruptly a flash of memory--darkness/pain/terror/despair--flashed through the back of her mind and cut off her words before they could fully form. Pidge swallowed hard, forcing down the memory roughly as Green gave a soothing purr. What had Malrento said, about too much courage getting you killed? “A-Alright. Luna it is. Be careful, okay?”

 

Shiro’s voice was heavy with gratitude that made her wonder if he hadn’t been thinking of the exact same thing.  _ “We will, Pidge. See you soon.” _

 

________

 

Potravok’s gaze flickered between the viewscreens that ringed the control room and the Lady Haggar, lounging in her chair at the back of the room. Her cold yellow eyes remained fixed on the two Lions that were now approaching the ship, the green one having turned back in response to the attack on the tiny facilities based on the planet’s barren moon. She seemed utterly unconcerned by the threat closing in on the defenseless Weblum’s Breath.

 

“My Lady…?” He asked uncertainly. His training told him to defend the ship, but his orders were to obey the head Druid’s every instruction--or lack thereof.

 

“Champion and the one who would call himself a Blue Paladin.” She murmured to herself, watching the approach of the Blue and Black Lions. “How perfect.” Her tone was laced with cruel amusement that made Potravok shudder. He startled when she stood abruptly. “Potravok, remain here and monitor the readiness of the Weblum’s Breath. I have something to take care of.”

 

She vanished in a swirl of quintessence before he could even begin to formulate a reply.

 

________

  
  


Kovirak growled under her breath as she peered around the corner. It had taken her far too long to identify and reach the level of the ship where she could access the weapon’s critical components. She wasn’t sure how much time was left before it was ready to fire, but she knew it wasn’t nearly long enough. 

 

Sighting around the corner once more, she adjusted the angle of her blaster slightly before squeezing the trigger. The guard down the hall dropped--with her shot through the chest and another shot through his head from another direction. Her ears flared in surprise. Someone else was taking out guards here?

 

A moment later her unexpected ally was revealed as two figures moved cautiously around the corner, dressed in white armor with coloured accents. The Paladins. She’d only seen them in pictures before. The one whose armor was accented with black, a glowing pink shield braced on his right arm, stooped to pick up the dead guard’s gun, while the smaller one wearing blue accents studied the body with a frown.

 

“Someone else shot this guard too, Shiro.” She heard the blue paladin whisper to his companion, who immediately tensed and scanned the corridor for the culprit. That was her cue, she supposed. Kovirak slung her own blaster over her shoulder out of the way and stepped out from behind the corner, careful to keep her hands raised and open to show that she wasn’t carrying a weapon. Two other blasters were levelled instantly in her direction.

 

“Easy there, I’m on your side.” She didn’t step closer, but knelt, a Blade’s salute instead of an Imperial soldier’s. Hopefully they would recognize it as allies of the Blades. “Knowledge or death, Paladins.”

 

“You’re a Blade.” The Black Paladin’s eyes widened, and he lowered his weapon slightly, the smaller Human following his lead a moment later. “Are you the one who sent the warning about the Weblum’s Breath?”

 

She nodded as she straightened, unslinging her weapon once more. “Yes. My name is Kovirak.”

 

“I’m Shiro, and this is Lance.” Shiro’s attitude was calm as he introduced them, but Lance was frowning at her with uncertainty in his eyes. Did he know, or suspect, what she had done? If he did, she hoped he would be willing to leave it be until they disabled the weapon. Her cub’s life depended on it. Shiro checked a timepiece on his wrist and grimaced. “Let’s get moving. We’re running out of time.”

 

_________

 

Lance frowned at Kovirak’s back as they moved along the corridor, creeping from alcove to alcove and checking around corridors. Kovirak. Why did he feel like he’d heard that name before? It was frustratingly familiar, but he couldn’t place it for the life of him. It was like a nagging itch that wouldn’t go away. He’d have to ask the others when they got back, maybe one of them would know. It was going to drive him crazy until he did, though.

 

He scanned the corridor behind them, but there was still no sign of pursuit. They couldn’t possibly have got in completely unnoticed, could they? Something felt wrong, but he wasn’t sure what, and he tightened his grip on his bayard defensively.

 

“Where are all the guards?” Apparently Shiro was thinking the same thing he was. It was too darn quiet, especially considering how close they were to the access door for the lattice. If there were guards anywhere on the ship, this is where they should’ve been. But they weren’t.

 

“...I don’t know.” Kovirak admitted softly, her ears laid back tensely. Seriously, why was that name so familiar? “The ship only has a skeleton crew, but I refuse to believe Haggar is not aware of your presence.”

 

Shiro stopped, staring at the Galra in alarm, as did Lance. “Haggar is here?” The black paladin didn’t quite manage to hide the shake in his voice, or the reflexive glance toward where the prosthetic she’d made had once been grafted onto his flesh. Not that Lance could blame him. Even with the relative little the older man had admitted to the rest of them about his time in captivity, the blue paladin knew he’d suffered a lot at her hands. He was fairly certain the arm was just scratching the surface.

 

The Blade nodded grimly, glancing sideways at Shiro. “I believe she intended to monitor the first test of the Empire’s new weapon herself. I also suspect she’s one of very few Druids with enough strength to power a wormhole large enough to transport it.”

 

Dragging a deep breath into his lungs, Shiro nodded. “Right. Makes sense.” He glanced over his shoulder at Lance, who pretended not to notice the fear in those dark eyes. “Come on. Let’s get in, destroy the lattice, and get out. Quickly.”

 

Lance didn’t need to be told twice, following the other two as they jogged the remaining distance down the hall to the large double-doors with their bright green warning labels. Kovirak’s hand on the scanner unlocked the doors (although she seemed oddly surprised by that?), and they slid apart soundlessly to admit the group.

 

The room they stepped into was dark, the only illumination besides their suits and Shiro’s shield a dim orange glow from a series of criss-crossing bars that lined the walls around the wide catwalk on which they stood. In the poor lighting, it was hard to judge how large the room was, but it seemed enormous. As the doors slid shut behind them, they moved further into the room, and Lance continued to look around, studying the terrain like he’d been trained and figuring out what he could use it for. Unfortunately, it all seemed to be flat and wide open, no cover or vantage points anywhere.

 

He was so focused on examining their surroundings that when Shiro stopped abruptly, Lance ran right into his back with a startled exclamation. Backing up, he quickly looked around, trying to figure out why the black paladin had stopped. “Shiro? What’s wrong?”

 

Shiro didn’t answer, standing silent and unmoving, his back to Lance and Kovirak.

 

The hair on the back of Lance’s neck stood up. Something was very wrong here. Instincts were much more Keith’s specialty, what with being the red paladin and all, but right now everything inside the blue paladin was screaming danger warnings at him. Urging him to run. He took another step back.

 

“Sh...Shiro…?” He tried again, more softly. Unconsciously, he adjusted his grip on his bayard. He watch the older man carefully, looking for any sign of a reaction.

 

Shiro turned. Lance’s breath caught in his throat.

 

_ No. _ His mind screamed denial at him as he stared, transfixed, at Shiro’s face.  _ No. It can’t be. _ At the cold, cruel smirk that looked so wrong on the kind-hearted leader’s face.  _ We got rid of the arm. This shouldn’t be possible. _ At the glowing indigo eyes that he’d seen once before in a dream (memory?) where a glowing pink hand grasped pale skin and turned it burnt and bloody.  _ No, please, God, no. _ He couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.

 

The frozen tableau was broken by harsh, cold laughter from somewhere beyond the black paladin’s back. Lance swivelled automatically to locate the source, his bayard snapping up. Movement in the shadows drew his attention and he focused on it, sighting along the weapon. Then the figure stepped forward, close enough to be seen properly in the slowly-brightening glow of the almathium lattice around them, and he felt the blood drain from his face as his heart seemed to stop.

 

Haggar’s glowing eyes were fixed on him, her face twisted in a cold smile that mirrored the one that warped Shiro’s features. When she spoke, her voice echoed in the silence of the chamber, a mocking lilt to her tone that was one step shy of outright laughter as she stared him down. “Why, whatever is the matter, Blue Paladin? Don’t you know your own aspect when you see it?”


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: major character injury
> 
> So real life is kinda kicking my ass at the moment, with the result that I've still barely started writing chapter 36 even though I know what's going to happen in it. So, because I love you guys and I don't want to make you wait ages to finish the Battle For Earth arc, I'm posting it now and dropping my editing buffer down to three chapters. Hopefully things will improve soon so I can keep posting regularly.
> 
> Also! I wrote a one-shot time-travel fix-it AU divergent from near the end of S4E6, featuring Matt! It's also posted on AO3, so please check it out.
> 
> Also also, have a doodle of Holt as she looked in the bad timeline (scars to be determined at a later date) https://vldaspect.tumblr.com/post/166587867040/writing-isnt-happening-at-the-moment-adhd-is-the
> 
> Finally, please enjoy the final part of the Battle For Earth~

All the blood in Lance’s body felt as though it had turned into solid ice. He was frozen to the spot, eyes locked on Haggar’s smirking yellow gaze. The witch’s face was twisted with a cruel smile as she stared him down, utterly unconcerned by the blasters being levelled in her direction by the blue paladin and the Galra spy, the latter of whom was bristling and baring her teeth. He couldn’t shoot, every muscle in his body locked up with shock and fear.

 

Her words kept ringing in his head. She was controlling Shiro with an aspect?  _ His _ aspect? 

 

Haggar took a few steps forward, reaching up to run a hand over Shiro’s cheek in a possessive caress. that made him feel sick. “I should be thanking you, Blue Paladin,” She purred, something in her tone making a mockery of the title, “for bringing my Champion back to me.” Her fingers trailed lower, down onto the black paladin’s upper right arm where the new prosthetic was secured to the scarred flesh left behind when they removed the one she had given him in an attempt to prevent this exact situation. “Pity you had to go and undo all my hard work, but that can be remedied easily enough.”

 

“L-Let him go, Haggar!” Lance finally managed to find his voice, his fingers tightening convulsively on his bayard. “He...He’s  _ not _ your Champion! He’s Shiro, the Black Paladin of Voltron!” His gaze flicked to the older man’s face, hoping desperately for some sign of recognition or acknowledgement of the words, but there was none. “Let him go right now!”

 

A deep scowl crossed the witch’s features and she scoffed derisively. “He is no more the rightful Black Paladin than that weakling Loh’raakkar was. Or any more than  _ you _ are the rightful  _ Blue _ Paladin,  _ child _ .” Her tone was sharp as she stared him down, sending fresh waves of fear running through his body. He could feel Blue snarling in the back of his head, angrier than he’d ever heard her sound. “It’s high time you learned your place.”

 

In response to some unspoken command, Shiro’s shield vanished, the black bayard returning to its dormant form before being dropped to the floor with a clatter that echoed in the near-silence of the room. Still wearing that twisted, wrong-looking smirk, the black paladin stepped on it, pressing his weight forward until the casing cracked and sparks of quintessence flared from the device. Kicking the damaged bayard aside and sending it skittering into the darkness, Shiro hefted the blaster he’d taken from the dead soldier, grinning at them along the barrel.

 

“Champion.” Haggar ordered smoothly, her voice ringing in the still air.  _ “Kill.” _

 

_________

 

He found himself turning without making the decision to do so. Lance was staring at him. He looked scared. No, not scared.  _ Terrified. _

 

He couldn’t remember anyone looking at him like that since the arena, and it made him feel sick. He tried to open his mouth, to say something to reassure the blue paladin, but his body wouldn’t seem to respond to him.

 

Someone was speaking, but the words were a buzz of noise in his ears that he couldn’t understand. Lance’s mouth was moving. Why couldn’t he hear what the other paladin was saying?

 

His body was moving. He hadn’t told it to move, why was he moving? As though he were watching a movie play out on screen, he saw himself drop the black bayard and step on it. Saw himself lifting the blaster and taking aim at the wide-eyed boy in front of him. Realizing what was about to happen, he fought desperately for control that had somehow been taken from him against his will, beating at the wall of blue energy that seemed to separate him from his own body.

 

_ “Champion. _ ” That one word cut clearly through the noise that filled his ears, spoken by a terrifyingly familiar voice, as did the one after it that made the bottom drop out of his stomach in despair.  _ “Kill.” _

 

________

 

Lance threw himself sideways, the blaster’s pulse leaving a scorch mark on the side of his helmet in passing. A year of training and hard-won experience kicked in, automatic reactions taking over from a mind that was still reeling with shock and fear as he ducked and weaved around the rapid fire coming his direction. Without stopping to think he sighted along his rifle, snapped off three shots and moved again.

 

His shots went wide. How had he never realized how  _ fast _ Shiro was? No wonder the man had dominated the gladiator arenas even before his arm had been modified. He evaded Lance’s fire like it was nothing, closing the gap between them even as the younger male backpedalled desperately. At the moment the only thing saving the blue paladin was the larger man’s inexperience with blasters, his shots inaccurate even under Haggar’s influence. But if he managed to get into close quarters, Lance knew he wasn’t going to stand a chance.

 

A snarl and a flash of motion off to the side caught his attention for a moment, and out of the corner of his eye he saw Kovirak lunging not at Shiro, but at Haggar. That was smart, if they could distract her, make her lose focus, then maybe the black paladin would be able to break free of her control. He’d done it once before, after all, in the other timeline.

 

Lance tried not to think about what the critical moment had been then.

 

Shiro’s fist flew past his face as he lunged to the side again, sprinting across the deck to try to put some distance between them. Another spray of blaster fire chased him, close enough for him to feel the heat on his neck and shoulder. With Shiro focused on him he couldn’t afford to get distracted. He would just have to hope that Kovirak could somehow divert the witch long enough for the black paladin to break free. And, he swallowed hard, noting how much brighter the bars of the almathium lattice around them were now, hope she could do it fast.

 

________

 

Kovirak bared her teeth with a growl as she lunged at the witch who had taunted her for so long by dangling her cub’s life over her head, firing the blaster steadily as she ran. Haggar blocked the attack easily with a sweep of her hand, quintessence crackling in her palm to deflect the shots, before firing back with a bolt of lightning that the Galra evaded easily, twisting to the side and countering with another volley of gunfire. She dodged back and forth, searching for an opening and harassing the Druid with her weapon to keep her attention on her instead of...whatever it was she had done to the Black Paladin.

 

Judging by the things Haggar and Lance had been saying, the witch was controlling Shiro somehow. She could hear the other two behind her, rapid footsteps clanging against the metal floor as the Black Paladin pursued his teammate. Frequent blaster shots punctuated the sound of heavy breathing and occasional muttered pleas from the Blue Paladin for his leader to come to his senses. The older didn’t seem to hear his words though, if the younger’s occasional stumble or hiss of pain was any indication. Kovirak wasn’t sure exactly how Haggar was doing it, but it was reasonable to assume that if she could take the witch down, her control would probably be broken.

 

Yet another reason to destroy her here and now. Kovirak hissed and sprang forward, claws extended and teeth bared.

 

_______

 

He screamed inside his head, a desperate cry of frustration that never reached his lips. Instead he felt his chest continue to heave steadily with the heavier breaths of exertion as he ran easily across the catwalk in pursuit of his teammate.

 

Ahead of him, Lance stumbled, his breathing ragged. The blue paladin had good stamina, born from years of swimming and running, he knew, but endurance had been one of the things that had kept Shiro alive during his year in the arena and the lanky teenager simply couldn’t match it. It showed in the familiar burn of his muscles, in the differences in their breathing, in the way Lance’s expression grew increasingly desperate whenever he looked up at him and clutched his bayard in shaking hands.

 

His own hands lifted the Galra-made blaster again and he struggled, trying to resist the movement, change it, do anything to stop what was happening. But it was as though he was a passenger in his own body, unable to do anything but watch himself hunting down one of the children who had become his family the way he had once pursued enemies in the arena to save his own life, a blue-tinted wall separating him from himself no matter how he clawed at it. He couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, couldn’t hear. Could only see, powerless to intervene.

 

He sighted along the rifle, taking aim at Lance’s retreating back. A shouted warning went unvoiced as he squeezed the trigger, slow and precise and steady.

 

A burst of purple plasma streaked from the barrel of the gun, the blue paladin jerking to the side just a moment too late as fatigue dulled his reactions. Crimson sprayed across the floor, dark under the fiery orange glow of the walls.

 

________

 

Blue’s shriek in his head was so loud that Alejandro let go of the drone controls and clapped his hands over his ears with a cry of pain. It didn’t do anything to block out the connection, or quiet the Blue Lion’s roar of anger and distress echoing in his skull, and he felt a fresh wave of panic rush through him as her fear washed over him. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. And since it wasn’t him that was in trouble...

 

He reached for the Lion mentally, trying to find the source of the problem, but she was snarling and yowling too much at whatever had happened to give him a clear response. Desperately, he threw himself out of his chair and sprinted across to the communications terminal, ignoring the startled exclamations of the others on the Castle’s main deck and all but shoving Matt out of the way with a mumbled apology. “Hunk! Where is Lance?”

 

The yellow paladin’s tone was startled at the interruption.  _ “Uh, still on the Weblum’s Breath with Shiro, I think. They’re outside my range. Why?” _ Alejandro could almost hear his brow furrowing anxiously.

 

“Something’s wrong. Blue’s freaking out.” He took a deep breath, trying to slow his racing heart. “I haven’t heard her sound like this since we lost Red.”

 

_ “Shit. Gimme a second.” _ There was a tense pause, during which the former paladin’s head was filled with the frustrated growls of a Lion unable to reach their paladin when they needed to.  _ “No, I can’t reach that far. Sorry. Pidge? Could he use the link to check?” _

 

There were muttered curse words from the green paladin’s coms, followed by the grunt of someone being thrown around in their cockpit by maneuvers. The enemy’s fighters were really making her work to defend the habitat domes.  _ “Maybe? I don’t know if the link goes--shit--goes both ways.” _

 

Alejandro blinked. “Link? What link?”

 

Pidge let out an annoyed huff.  _ “I’ll spare you the details right now, there isn’t time, but you and Lance seem to have--ha, take that, motherfucker--developed some kind of weird mental link, probably through Blue. He was able to use it to check your memory of...this...from your time to see how long we had until the Weblum’s Breath fired, but I don’t know if it goes both ways, it doesn’t seem to affect you the same way it--” _

 

“Pidge!” He cut off her rambling before she could get too out of breath, trying to wrap his head around her words. A mental link between himself and Lance through the Blue Lion? The thought was a worrying one, but he didn’t have time to consider the implications right now. Something was dangerously wrong, and they were running out of time. “I’ll try it.” Without waiting for a response, he closed his eyes and dove into his connection with Blue, her energy cool and familiar as it wrapped around his mind. As he pushed deeper, he could feel her anger, feel her fear, feel her...pain? No, not her pain. Lance’s.

 

For a brief moment he was seeing through his younger self’s eyes into a scene lit by a terrifying orange glow from the walls. He was on the ground, scooting desperately backwards, his right hand cradled to his chest and radiating burning agony and his left leg trailing uselessly, although that pain was comparatively minor. He knew that the blue bayard was somewhere far out of reach, knocked flying by the force of the shot that had torn a path across the outside of his upper right arm, cracking the armor and scorching the skin, before ripping a hole in the back of his right hand and knocking him off-balance hard enough to twist his left ankle badly. And standing over him, tossing aside the still-smoking blaster in favour of cracking his human knuckles and wearing a cruel smirk only made colder by the deep blue glow that concealed his eyes, was Shiro.

 

Alejandro lost control of the tenuous connection with a horrified cry, clinging to the edge of the console and panting as he fought not to be sick from the feel of the pain and terror and the horrifying realization of what was happening. It couldn’t be. It shouldn’t be possible. They’d gotten rid of the arm, dammit, this wasn’t supposed to be able to happen! Distantly he was aware of voices buzzing around him.

 

_ “Okay, that sounded really bad.” _

 

_ “Alejandro, what’s going on, what’s wrong with Lance?!” _

 

_ “Fucking hell, Alejandro, answer us! Matt, what happened?” _

 

“I don’t know, he was concentrating and then he screamed and started hyperventilating! Come on, deep breath, Alejandro, we need to know what’s going on.” Gentle hands touched his cheeks and he tried to concentrate on the touch to ground himself. “You can do it. In, hold, and out.” 

 

He forced himself to suck in one harsh breath, then another. He needed to get himself back under control, needed to tell them what was happening, so they could try to find a solution. There had to be one. They couldn’t lose everything all over again. “Shiro.” He gasped out raggedly, grabbing at his head and tangling his fingers in his hair. “Haggar’s got Shiro, he’s attacking Lance, I saw his eyes, I don’t--this wasn’t supposed to happen, we got rid of it, how the hell is she doing this--”

 

His panicked tirade was cut off by soft lips on his own, pressing hard against him for a brief moment, and he was left panting when they pulled back a moment later. Kurogane was staring at him with grim eyes, gripping his shoulders tightly. “We’ll figure it out, Alejandro. We’re not losing them again.” Once the former blue paladin managed a shaky nod, he turned his attention to the comlink. “Matt, figure out if we can pull our forces together enough to make another run on the blockade to get to the Weblum’s Breath again. We still have to destroy the damn thing. Alejandro,” He turned back again, pain written across his features. “I’m sorry to ask this, but we need a better idea of what’s going on. Can you reach through the link again?”

 

Alejandro took a ragged breath and gave a slow nod. They needed to know, if they were going to have any hope of saving this timeline’s Lance and Shiro and preventing the destruction of Earth. Closing his eyes and taking Kurogane’s hand, he plunged back into the Lion bond.

 

________

 

Despite Kovirak’s best efforts, Haggar’s control hadn’t wavered in the slightest. Shiro heard the crackle of quintessence-lightning behind him, a cry of pain and the sound of a body hitting the ground. He couldn’t turn to see, however, his body still locked under the witch’s control no matter how hard he struggled against the intruding energy that manipulated him against his will. All he could do was stare through his eyes at Lance, terrified and in pain on the ground in front of him.

 

Footsteps signalled Haggar’s approach, and he could just glimpse her beside him staring down at the wounded Paladin. “Pathetic. And to think the Blue Lion had the temerity to consider  _ you _ a worthy successor to  _ me _ . Champion.” His heart stopped for a moment at the name, dread coiling in his gut. Please, he didn’t want to do this. “Finish him.”

 

He saw, as if in slow motion, his prosthetic fingers curling into a fist, his arm coming back for a punch that he knew could easily break bones or rupture organs if landed in the right place. He clawed desperately at the wall of blue energy once more. He couldn’t let this happen.

 

Lance was still trying to back away, his left leg trailing and his right hand leaving bloody streaks on his chestplate. His left hand scrabbled behind him for purchase. Metal clinked against metal.

 

Shiro felt himself step forward, muscles coiling to put all of his weight behind the blow, one capable of killing in a single strike. He’d done it before, in the arena, although he’d hated it every time. Hated being forced to take lives, innocent or otherwise. And now he was going to be made to do the same to Lance.

 

The blue paladin grabbed something--Shiro glimpsed the familiar shape of a dormant bayard--off the ground behind him, his arm snapping forward.

 

His body shifted into motion, lunging at the teenager helpless on the ground before him. He gave a silent cry of agonized fury. Dammit, no! He was supposed to  _ protect _ his team!

 

Metal struck metal with resounding crash.

 

Shiro felt a wave of shock ripple through him as he stared along his outstretched arm at where his knuckles grated against the Voltron ‘V’, starkly black in a white circle and surrounded by glowing pink that flickered uncertainly but still managed to cast a vibrant glow over the surrounding area.

 

His shield.

 

Lance stared up at him through the translucent energy barrier, wide-eyed with surprise. It shouldn’t have been possible. Coran had told them the bayards were linked to their paladin’s quintessence the same way the Lions were. The Blue Paladin shouldn’t have been able to activate the black bayard, much less into the form it took for the Black Paladin. Which meant…

 

Which meant  _ he _ had somehow activated it, in Lance’s hands instead of his own and despite Haggar’s control. Her dominance over him wasn’t total. He could still fight her.

 

Shiro mentally closed his eyes and took a deep breath.  _ Patience yields focus _ . He gathered himself, concentrating, remembering.  _ You are a shield, not a sword. A protector, not a monster. _ Matt and Coran’s voices seemed to echo in his head in time with the flicker of the shield’s energy disk in front of him.  _ Haggar bent you, but she never broke you. You are not Champion. _ Determination surged through him, and he growled, long and low, deep inside himself.

 

_ You are Takashi Shirogane. Black Paladin of Voltron. A _ defender _ of the universe. _

 

The Black Lion roared defiance in his head, drowning out the buzzing in his ears.

 

The shield flickered again and finally went out, reverting to its damaged dormant form as quintessence sparked along the cracks.

 

The brilliant glow remained.

 

_______

 

Alejandro’s eyes snapped open and he grabbed for Kurogane’s arm. The red paladin quickly turned away from the rapid-fire discussion over the comlink, meeting his frantic gaze.

 

“It was never the arm.” He choked out helplessly, unable to believe what he’d seen through Lance’s eyes. How could they all have gotten it so wrong, all these years? “It was never the fucking arm at all.”

 

________

 

Haggar stumbled back as her quintessence was repulsed violently from the Black Paladin, her eyes going wide with a sudden jolt of fear. It couldn’t be. She couldn’t possibly have erred that badly.

 

The older Human was straightening now from the crouch his attack against his teammate had left him in, turning to face her fully. The cruel smirk she had made him wear was gone, wiped from his face in favour of an utterly calm expression. His eyes had returned to their normal dark shade, gazing at her steadily as they reflected the blinding ultraviolet glow of the black quintessence that coated his right arm.

 

The first time she had seem his arm alight like this, she had thought it was simply an ability of this newfound species. Alteans hardly had a monopoly on quintessence manipulation, after all, although it was hardly so dramatic or versatile for most species. His usage had seemed to be limited to weaponizing the prosthetic recently grafted to his flesh. When none of the other paladins had ever been observed using the technique, her conclusion was that it was either a rare ability among their kind, unlocked due to the stresses he had suffered in the arena, or related to the fusion of metal to his body. Either way, it was nothing to be concerned about. A curiosity, nothing more.

 

Now, though, it seemed she’d been mistaken. Only one person had ever been able to throw off her control like that. There was only one way it could be done. The personality aspect of black quintessence had granted Zarkon the ability to manipulate quintessence in ways even an  _ amvel nayeta _ could only dream about, from reshaping his bayard to dominating the Black Lion to turning her mind control back on her as though it were nothing. He had even been able to do the same to Ilexam’s healing, warping it so flesh tore further instead of knitting under his hands. It was a powerful, dangerous ability, fitting for the leader of the mighty Galra Empire.

 

And the new black paladin had had that same potential all along and she had failed to recognize it for what it was.

 

He raised his glowing arm, shifting into the same loose combat stance she’d seen him take a thousand times in the arenas before he inevitably killed his opponent. Only this time, it was her on the other side of the ring as the Black Paladin Champion stared her down.

 

________

 

Lance gasped for breath, his eyes wild as he watched Shiro lunge at Haggar, his arm blazing more brilliantly than it ever had before. The damaged black bayard fell from his shaking hand to clatter to the floor. He wasn’t sure what had happened, first the shield forming, then Shiro throwing off Haggar’s control--completely, not partially like in Alejandro’s memories--and now this, with quintessence lighting up the surface of the black paladin’s arm from fingertips to shoulder. But he could barely breathe from relief, his whole body sagging as he fought not to cry.

 

A groan had his head snapping up at the reminder that he couldn’t relax yet. They were far from safe. Some distance away Kovirak was struggling to her feet, blood matting singed fur on her shoulder and cheek where Haggar’s attacks had blasted away part of her armor. She bared her teeth as she pushed herself upright, swaying slightly but not falling.

 

She looked as though she was going to join Shiro in going after Haggar--the head Druid was backing away in front of the black paladin’s advance in a manner that Lance would have almost described as fearful if he hadn’t known just how dangerous she was--when her ears swivelled back in response to some sound drowned out by the crack of metal on metal as Shiro pursued the witch across the catwalk relentlessly, ducking and weaving around her attacks. A moment later Lance heard it too. Energy crackling, all around him.

 

Looking around, his eyes widened in horror. The bars of the almathium lattice were glowing fire-bright now, energy crackling along them in visible arcs and bolts. They were almost out of time.

 

Kovirak snarled something that didn’t translate and groped in her belt, coming up with a small weapon, a one-handed blaster that she tossed toward him. “Hurry!” She ordered, turning and sprinting toward her own weapon some distance away. Lance didn’t need to be told twice. Shifting to kneel on his injured leg, he sighted along his left arm, squinting against the brightness of the lattice and holding the unfamiliar weapon tightly in anticipation of recoil. He breathed deeply, then pulled the trigger.

 

The first node burst apart in a shower of orange-white sparks, but he was already finding his next target. In a quick, steady rhythm he blasted apart the nodes one after another. The sound of another gun behind him, slower but no less steady, was most likely Kovirak, takìng out the nodes on the other side.

 

He lost count of how many he shot out before an alarm began to wail. At the same time, the energy stopped arcing and the bars began to dim as automatic failsafes cut in. A cry of outrage turned into a cry of pain and Lance’s head snapped around just in time to catch a glimpse of Haggar, yellow eyes radiating fury above a bloody gash that ran from right collarbone to left armpit, just before she disappeared in a flare of quintessence. 

 

Shiro looked around wildly for a moment, anticipating a reappearance, but when none seemed forthcoming he uncoiled slightly and jogged back toward them, the pink glow fading from his arm.

 

“Good shooting, Lance.” The praise was warm, but Lance was too exhausted to do more than nod weakly and lean on the black paladin as his good arm was pulled over the older man’s shoulder. “Come on, we need to get out of here. Kovirak, grab the bayards, please.”

 

The Galra scooped up the black bayard from where it had fallen at the blue paladin’s feet. She had to search for a moment in the rapidly-dimming light before she found the other bayard near the far edge of the catwalk. Clipping both to her belt, she hefted her blaster in both hands. “We should hurry. With the weapon disabled and the injury you inflicted she will likely call for a retreat.”

 

“Right. Let’s go.” Lance gritted his teeth as they moved quickly out of the room, hobbling as quickly as he could. His ankle throbbed, although the stiff boot of his armor seemed to offer some measure of support, but he forced himself to ignore it. He could give in to the pain and shock and break down crying once he was back in the Castle. His hand was thankfully more numb than painful now.

 

Blue’s relieved purr almost deafened him as they reached the spot where the two Lions had punched a hole through the wall, and he managed a shaky smile and patted her muzzle before Shiro guided him inside. He slumped wearily in the pilot’s chair once he was dropped carefully into it, and glanced down at the bloody mess of his right hand before shuddering and looking away. “Um...Kovirak should probably ride with me. I might need an extra set of hands if we have to fight our way out.” He pretended not to notice the pained look on the black paladin’s face as he looked at the injury. This whole mess had opened up a bunch of cans of worms that they were going to have to talk about, but now wasn’t the time.

 

“Right. Good thinking.” A brief touch on his shoulder and then Shiro was gone. Several seconds later the communications panel blinked as the connection between Black and Blue reopened.  _ “We better hurry. I see wormholes forming.” _

 

“Sounds good to me. C’mon, Blue, let’s go home.”

 

________

 

Allura stared in shock as purple portals began flaring open, first one, then several, then many. For a moment she feared the arrival of more reinforcements, then, unbelievably, the first of the warships they’d been fighting dove slowly into the closest wormhole. Even as she watched, the others began to follow in ones and twos, their weapons falling silent. In the silence that had fallen on the command deck, she could hear the chatter of the others both here and over the comlink.

 

_ “What’s going on? Are they retreating?” _

 

_ “Sure looks that way.” _

 

_ “The Weblum’s Breath hasn’t fired, did they do it?” _

 

“I think so. The last I looked Lance was shooting the lattice nodes.”

 

_ “So where the hell are they, then?” _

 

She was certain that all of them turned in unison to gaze at the massive weapon in the distance. A gigantic wormhole had burst open in front of it and the ship moved ponderously towards it. A flash of yellow out of the corner of her eye caught her attention, and she realized it was the Yellow Lion, blasting at top speed toward the far-off ship. 

 

“Hunk! Be careful!”

 

_ “Lance! Shiro! Come on guys, please tell me you got out okay!” _ The Yellow Lion was quickly flanked by Red and Green, dodging around enemy fighters who let them pass unchallenged as they streaked across open space. The Weblum’s Breath was disappearing rapidly now, its bulk being swallowed by the violet portal. Allura held her breath, offering a desperate prayer to the rulers of old for the safety of the two paladins. Then, Hunk let out a wild laugh of relief:  _ “I sense them! They’re okay!” _

 

A wild cheer went up over the link, and a moment later two new voices joined the conversation.  _ “Hey guys. Sorry we took so long. Had a bit of trouble.” _ Shiro sounded tired but relieved, although she didn’t doubt he was hiding a storm of emotions underneath the surface after the events Alejandro had reported taking place on the enemy ship.  _ “Everyone okay?” _

 

_ “Bit battered and bruised, but nothing major.” _ Pidge responded.  _ “The Lions will need some repairs, though.” _

 

Stepping down from the control columns, Allura arrived at the communications console just in time to hear Matt give a distinctly worried-sounding growl of confirmation over the link to the pack ships. “How bad is it?” She asked softly. They’d been horrifically outmatched in this battle, and she knew without being told that there had been a great many losses in the desperate defense of this one planet.

 

Matt glanced up at her and sighed. “The Sliding Snow is completely unresponsive. Roaring Mountain and Falling Tree are sending ships over to see if there’s any survivors. Five other ships have major damage compromising their life support and will need to set down planetside for repairs immediately.” He grimaced, glancing up at the main viewscreen, where Earth hung unobstructed now. “It’s going to have to be here, Princess. They wouldn’t survive a wormhole with the shape they’re in. The question is, where is safe? The pack leaders have already indicated that they’re all sticking together until repairs are complete.”

 

Allura nodded unhappily. She knew that Shiro’s first return to Earth had been far from pleasant. But then again, the circumstances were far different. “I couldn’t begin to tell you. You know this planet far better than I do, Matthew.”

 

_ “Mister Holt?” _ Another voice cut in from the comlink.

 

Matt started. “Major Coleman?”

 

The leader of the Human fighter contingent hesitated apologetically for a moment.  _ “I couldn’t help but overhear, sir, and I passed on your concerns to the acting commander of this crisis groundside. I’ve been instructed to offer for you and your allies to set down in the area belonging to the Arizona Garrison, with assurances that they’ll have soldiers patrolling the fenceline to keep civilians out, and that the soldiers themselves will stay at the fenceline. No intrusion without permission.” _

 

Allura exchanged an uncertain look with Matt. The young Human seemed to be thinking hard, turning the offer over in his head and weighing the pros and cons. Finally, with a deep sigh, he looked up at her and gave a slow nod.

 

“On behalf of the Voltron Alliance, Major Coleman, please pass on our thanks to your leader for their generous offer of hospitality.” She stated formally. “Please tell your superiors that the first ships will begin landing shortly.” Turning away from the microphone, she glanced at Matt. “Please pass on the landing coordinates to the other ships, and keep me updated on the status of the landing.” The Human nodded, already starting to confer again with the pack leaders.

 

Stepping back up to her control columns, Allura took a deep breath. The Lions were returning, bright spots of colour on the viewscreens. It wouldn’t be long before they were safely back in their hangars. With a nod to Coran, she began preparations for descent to the surface of Earth.


	33. Chapter 33 (Start of Arc 2: Space)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I liiiiiiiiiive!
> 
> A few things to get out of the way before we get the next arc underway!
> 
> First, thank you all for being SO patient. Two straight weeks of executive dysfunction keeping me from working on this on top of other real life nonsense was Not Fun, and then chapter 36 was tricky to get written. I did manage to help a friend write some Klance smut with feelings, though, which I'm listed as co-creator on, so if that's your jam please check it out DDDistractions (An Unconventional Path to Love).
> 
> Second, you will notice that the tags for this story have changed a bit! This is because the absolutely amazing suggestivesloth has offered to be my editor and soundboard for this story, and has been helping me plan out where this story is actually going (Yes, I've been 90% winging it for the last 160k words).
> 
> With that being said, I would like to take a moment to direct your attention to one tag in particular: 'MOST of the major character death is in the past timeline'. Now that I have a plot outline, I can tell you there WILL be two non-temporary major character deaths during the story. I know not everyone is comfortable reading that, and if you decide this is no longer the story for you, then I completely understand and thank you for reading this far. If you would like to know who is on the list of possibilities for those deaths, I've made a tumblr post here:  
> https://vldaspect.tumblr.com/post/167208221610/important-plot-update  
> If you would prefer to know exactly who we're going to be losing, please don't hesitate to message me on tumblr, or let me know in the comments how else I can get in touch with you to let you know. Same goes for any other plot tags for stuff we haven't gotten to yet.
> 
> With that, thank you again, and please enjoy chapter 33 of The Last Aspect!

The fourth (not that most people knew that’s what it was) landing of an alien ship on the surface of Earth took place slowly. The most heavily-damaged Icebringer ships were lowered carefully through the atmosphere with tractor beams from other vessels helping to control their descent and minimize stress on their fractured hulls, while a few pack ships that had sustained only minor damage remained in orbit a while longer to ensure that all survivors had been retrieved from the disabled fighters strewn across the space above the planet and from the ruined hulk of the Sliding Snow. The Castle of Lions ended up being one of the last ships down, the four uninjured paladins insisting on helping however they could. Several times Hunk’s keen BLIP-sense guided them to a badly-injured survivor that the sensors themselves had missed, and Keith and Pidge made a versatile team at getting through the damaged passages of the Sliding Snow to reach pockets of trapped individuals.

 

When they did finally make their descent, Coran watched from Allura’s side on the bridge as the air around them turned from the starry black of space to a soft blue, streaked with puffy white clouds. He had seen similar sights many times, on the screens of this ship and others, and yet somehow this one in particular seemed unique.

 

Maybe it was the way he felt he knew this planet better than any other besides the Altea of his past despite never having set foot on it or seen it except in the handfuls of pictures the younger paladins had brought to space with them on their phones and Pidge’s laptop. Those pictures only covered a small fraction of this world, but the Humans had eagerly filled in the gaps with descriptions and stories and history lessons, telling him stories both personal and those that had touched the world. It was a fascinatingly diverse place, and he knew that a thousand cycles would barely scratch the surface of all there was to learn about it.

 

Perhaps it had something to do with the battle they had just fought. That desperate struggle against insane odds, that they had so very nearly lost. So much had happened in the last few hours he could hardly take it all in. And yet they had succeeded, driving off their enemy and saving this precious world.

 

Or more likely, he thought, tearing his eyes away from the screens to look around the room, it had less to do with either of those things and more to do with the other people watching the descent with them.

 

The eight Human occupants of the Castle of Lions had formed a loose semicircle in front of Allura’s platform, their gazes locked on the view in front of them. At one end, Shiro, Matt, and Pidge formed a tight knot of laced fingers and small smiles. Coran knew that for the older pair, this took the place of the homecoming they should have had after Kerberos. Well, they were finally home now, even if it had been a longer, more difficult road than expected. Pidge’s smile was laced with both pride and sadness; unsurprising since her journey had begun with the effort to find her missing family and bring them home. It was unfortunate that her father had not survived to be part of this moment too.

 

Keith stood next to Shiro with folded arms and an oddly pensive expression. As far as the Altean knew, Earth had never held much attachment for the red paladin. Shiro was family and home to the orphaned teen. And now that he had finally accepted the rest of the Voltron team as family, perhaps he was worried about what would happen to that family once each of the others was able to contact their own. However, the battle against the Galra Empire was far from over. No doubt the paladins were all aware that they could not return to stay just yet.

 

Beside Keith, Lance and Hunk were a stark contrast to the withdrawn red paladin, both exchanging excited glances and beaming from ear to ear. Lance would have been bouncing in place if he hadn’t been leaning on his friend for support, left ankle wrapped in a supportive bandage and his right arm in a sling with bandages concealing the injuries on his hand and upper arm courtesy of Matt’s careful handiwork. Despite that, he still managed to do a full-body wriggle of sheer joy, wobbling slightly until the yellow paladin wrapped his arm tighter around his waist. No doubt both were looking forward to seeing the families they’d left behind.

 

Alejandro and Kurogane completed the line, both of them oddly solemn as they gazed out at the morning sky. They stood straight and stiff-backed, every inch the soldiers they’d had to learn to be, with only the tightly-linked hands between them and the shine in their eyes betraying just how intensely this scene must be affecting them. Seven cycles of grief and pain stood between them and the last time they had seen this sky, and Coran suspected they were thinking of the teammates who had lived those cycles with them right now but had not survived to see this, whose ghosts stood in the empty spaces beside them, watching clouds drift over the Arizona desert.

 

A movement out of the corner of his eye drew his attention back to Lance. The blue paladin had turned and was poking firmly at Keith’s shoulder, trying to get his attention. When the red paladin did finally look over with an annoyed stare, the other teen made a grabbing motion at him, looking at him imploringly until finally, heaving an exasperated sigh, Keith unfolded one arm to hold out his own hand. Lance latched onto it and laced their fingers, a broad, blushing smile spreading across his face. Keith turned his head away slightly, but Coran could see that a small, no-less-flustered smile had appeared on him as well.

 

Hunk looked over and grinned. Without loosening his supportive hold on his best friend, he leaned over and slung one massive arm over the shoulders of Alejandro and Kurogane, dragging them closer in a loose half-hug and drawing startled exclamations from the pair before they realized what was happening and settled into the embrace with an amused, knowing glance at each other. The noise attracted Shiro’s attention, and the black paladin was quick to wrap an arm around his little brother, closing the last gap in the chain. Slow smiles settled across eight Human faces as they all turned their attention back to the wide expanse of blue outside the ship.

 

They stayed like that, all linked, as the Castle of Lions settled into the desert sand of Earth.

 

________

 

Mitch stood silently at the edge of the hastily-erected barricade along the edge of the Garrison campus that verged onto the open expanse of desert to the south, watching as the clouds of dust and sand kicked up by massive thrusters slowly settled or were dispersed by the morning breeze. The area behind the temporary fencing was packed with cadets, scientists, anyone who hadn’t been sent up to fight, all hoping to catch a glimpse of the alien spacecrafts that were now parked on the sand.

 

Not that they were hard to spot. Even the smallest of the ships, a complicated white-and-aqua thing that seemed to be the home base for the lion-ships, was the size of a skyscraper. And the others, the ones with the star-flecked paint jobs, were large enough to make the white one look tiny by comparison.

 

And yet, for all their incredible size, they had clearly taken quite a beating. Even from this distance he could see buckled hull plates and torn metal on some of the ships, places where entire sections had been ripped away by the sheer power of the enemy’s weapons. An enemy that, if the parts of the intercepted comlink discussions he’d been able to understand were to be believed, hadn’t even been taking them that seriously. And hell if  _ that _ wasn’t goddamn terrifying to think about.

 

He’d known, ever since Kerberos, that the K-vessels represented a serious threat. He’d been trying since then to get his superiors, from the Garrison’s Generals all the way up to the Pentagon and the President, to take this threat seriously. To try to prepare some sort of adequate defense for when the ship, or ships, inevitably returned and didn’t content themselves with simply abducting a scientific expedition at the far reaches of the system. But he was called an alarmist, told to sit down and shut up, that his proposed preparations would cause international instability at best and mass panic at worst. Bullshit. They just didn’t want to risk their political careers. Eventually, though, he’d been forced to toe the line and go along with their cover-ups and training policies when they threatened him with demotion and discharge. At least as Commander of one of the Garrison bases, he had some small measure of influence that might help them in the end, authority that could be used for some subtle preparations, and he didn’t dare throw that away.

 

It wasn’t enough. If it hadn’t been for the arrival of the ships that were now sitting in the sand in front of him, they would all be dead now. That massive fleet upstairs would have swatted the Garrison’s spaceforce like so many bugs before tearing the whole planet apart. Especially that big mother their allies had been so worried about. One look at that gigantic cannon barrel pointed their way had been enough to tell him exactly what that thing was intended to do. If it had fired…

 

It hadn’t, thank god, but judging by the com conversations, it had come awfully close. From what had been said it sounded as though something had gone wrong with the two who had breached the ship to sabotage it, although how they knew and exactly what had happened hadn’t been clear. Hell, a lot of what had been said hadn’t been clear, English or not.

 

Damn if that wasn’t the biggest shock of the whole thing, though, hearing plain English mixed in with alien languages. Luna’s report about the reinforcements had been followed up by another with the frequency their new best friends were using to communicate, and they’d got a connection set up in the briefing room just in time for him to hear, plain as day, in-again-out-again-gone-again-finnegan Shirogane himself rattling off orders to none other than Kogane, Garrett, McClain, and Gunderson. He couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief, knowing those kids were safe. Reckless interference with prescribed procedures or not, they were still his cadets, and not knowing for certain what had happened to them had weighed on him just as much as the Kerberos crew’s abduction.

 

Then there’d been Matthew Holt, directing strategy with a quickness that he wished most of his specialists could emulate. It was good to hear another of that mission’s crew again, alive and safe. But there’d been no sound of the final crew member. Was Sam simply still missing? Or worse? God, he hoped the answer wasn’t what he feared. He wasn’t sure he’d forgive himself if it was.

 

Near the end, oddly, there’d been two other English speakers that he couldn’t identify, and no one else had either. Probably because they were aliens, given that only one Human was unaccounted for and neither of those voices belonged to Samuel Holt. Their names were oddly Human-sounding, though. Kurogane and Alejandro. Well, he’d find out when he got the chance to talk to their visitors.

 

The crowd had grown while he was lost in thought, although he was amused to note there was easily two feet of clear space on every side of him. Many of the cadets had their phones out, snapping pictures of the ships. He considered reprimanding them, since they weren’t supposed to take photos on base unless they were in their rooms, but what would have been the point? By now the whole world had seen those same spacecraft locked in battle, thanks to the cameras and telescopes that had pointed skyward as soon as people realized those weren’t just bright stars in the sky. He’d seen them himself, a handful of techs tracking the media response to the situation. The news was already worldwide.

 

He let out a pleased snort. So much for the precious cover-ups that had been initiated within the first hour after the Kerberos incident. Those had been blown to pieces now, along with the smaller one regarding Shirogane’s return and then re-disappearance along with three current and one former cadet. The phrases ‘pilot error’ and ‘training accident’ should be blowing up on the news and internet any minute, if they hadn’t already. He looked forward to testifying against the bastards who’d coined those excuses.

 

The squeal of tires on pavement drew his attention away from the spaceships and towards the security gate blocking the main access road onto the Garrison campus. Speaking of blowing cover-ups to pieces. Colleen Holt was leaning out of the driver side window of the car that had just pulled up and snarling at the security guard manning the station, demanding to be allowed in. Mitch had to hand it to the man, even with explicit orders not to allow anyone through without permission from Iverson himself, saying “no” to Colleen in a temper took  _ balls. _

 

Before the situation could escalate--he wouldn’t put it past her to deck anyone who got in her way right now--he headed over to the gate to intervene. “Holt. I was wondering when you’d get here.” He greeted conversationally. “Let her through, Private Singh.”

 

The young man looked visibly relieved, snapping off a salute and raising the barrier to allow the car through. As it pulled up, Mitch was surprised to see Shirogane’s cousin in the passenger seat, his vice grip on the ohmygod bar a testament to the older woman’s agitated driving. The slam of a door drew his attention back to Colleen as she stepped out, directing a furious glare his way that he politely ignored. Ryou followed more slowly with a deep frown on his face, the open door releasing the sounds of a radio broadcast replaying parts of the transmissions from the battle.

 

“Mitch, you lying son of bitch, if you think for one second you’re going to stop me from going out there to those ships, you are sadly mistaken.” She growled, stepping towards him with the air of a pissed-off lioness. “I will not hesitate to lay you out here and now, you fucking bastard.”

 

“There’s an ATV prepped and waiting for you in hangar five.” He said mildly, and was amused to watch her floundering at his calm acquiescence. She hadn’t expected him to be willing to cooperate with her. But then again, he’d had to be careful to at least make it  _ look _ like he was going along with the policies set out for the cover-ups before. Now that the higher-ups were going to be busy scrambling to cover their own asses, he could finally act freely. “I will insist on contacting the ships for permission, given that I promised them no intrusion, but I doubt they’re going to say no to the two of you coming out to see your son, daughter, and cousin. And I’d like to thank them personally for what they’ve done.”

 

Colleen’s mouth opened and closed a few times, no words coming out, and Mitch suppressed a laugh. He never thought he’d see the day Colleen Holt was rendered speechless. Even Ryou’s grim stare had turned into wide-eyed surprise. “I...good. Good. Let’s get moving then.” She gestured for him to lead the way, then scowled and added almost as an afterthought, to remind him that he was still on her list of enemies, “ _ asshole. _ ”

 

He simply nodded, unable to keep an amused smirk off his face. “Right this way, Mrs. Holt, Mr. Shirogane.”

 

________

 

Kovirak felt the tension seeping out of her as she stared out at the wide expanse of desert. The buildings and airstrips were new, but otherwise it hadn’t changed in the slightest. She even recognized some of the rock formations from her explorations cycles earlier.

 

Her mate’s home was somewhere to the south of here. Was Keith still living with him, or had he started to make his own way by now? He’d be old enough, if she remembered her time conversions correctly. Nineteen local years. She’d have to sneak away and see. Shouldn’t be too hard with so many people moving around doing repairs.

 

She almost couldn’t believe she was here, that she’d managed to save this place. When the Weblum’s Breath had come out of the wormhole and she’d seen the once-familiar continents on the planet ahead of her, she’d been so afraid, so angry. But her warning had gotten to where it needed to be, and the monstrous weapon disabled for the time being. And now she was on a world she’d never expected to return to. A dream come true, as Thomas would have said. Her heart clenched at the thought of her mate, previously pushed to the back of her mind by her fear for her cub’s safety, and she trilled sadly to herself. She couldn’t wait to see him again, as well as Keith. 

 

A beep from a nearby console startled her, making her bristle involuntarily and wincing as the scorched skin on her shoulder twitched under the bandages the ship’s doctor--Matt, she thought his name was--had applied after he’d finished with Lance. Leaning over, she peered at the screen. Incoming comlink. Quickly crossing the deck, she tapped on the shoulder of the red-headed Altean--she really needed to find out all their names, there hadn’t been time yet for proper introductions--and gestured to the communications console. “You’ve got an incoming connection.”

 

The older being blinked, then smiled tiredly. “Ah, thank you. Best not leave that station unmanned right now, I suppose.” With a slight sigh he stepped past her, tapping the controls to accept the connection.

 

Kovirak glanced around. The rest of those present on the bridge were clustered together and talking in pairs or groups in tones that ranged from loud excitement to quiet disbelief. She heard the word family mentioned, and amused reassurances from the white-haired Altean woman. No one was paying attention to the Galra in the room. 

 

Now was as good a time as any. She slipped out of the room and went in search of an exit that would lead out onto the desert sands.

 

________

 

Colleen paced impatiently in the base’s main communications room while they waited for the transmission to be accepted. Iverson was standing calmly in front of the radio, and she paused to give him the stink eye. He was being far too agreeable, and she didn’t trust it one bit.

 

Before she could figure out exactly what he was up to, though, the radio burped out a crackle of static, followed by a voice she didn’t recognize speaking clear English with what sounded oddly similar to a New Zealand accent.  _ “Hello there, this is the Castle of Lions, Coran speaking. Who am I speaking to?” _

 

“Commander Mitch Iverson of the Arizona Garrison.” Mitch didn’t even bat an eye, damn him.

 

There was just a split-second’s hesitation in the reply.  _ “Ah, Commander Iverson. I’ve heard quite a bit about you.” _ Although the tone was mild, Colleen noticed that Coran carefully did not mention exactly  _ what _ he’d heard, and couldn’t quite keep a grin off her face at the man’s chagrined expression.  _ “What can I do for you?” _

 

Iverson gave a slight cough to clear his throat. “With your permission, I’d like to send an ATV out to your ship, with three people aboard. One will be myself, so I can tender my thanks to you and your crew in person. The other two have business with some of your crew. A Colleen Holt and a Ryou Shirogane.”

 

There was a burst of unintelligible noise on the other end of the line, followed by silence for a few minutes. Colleen exchanged a concerned glance with Ryou. Were they going to be turned away? When Coran returned, there was laughter in his tone.  _ “Permission granted. Head for the white castle-ship at the front. Be seeing you shortly.” _ The connection broke with another crackle of static.

 

Iverson heaved a sigh of relief, and Colleen was certain he knew it was his name that would have got them turned away. “Right. Hangar five. This way.”

 

The ATV was a low, boxy thing with huge wheels, its design an offshoot of the rovers used on Luna and Mars. Colleen strapped herself into the front seat, Ryou taking the back while Iverson drove. The harness wasn’t really necessary with the relatively smooth terrain between them and the cluster of alien ships, but there was no sense taking chances. As they set off, she peered out the front window at the spacecraft up ahead.

 

The video feeds and pictures really hadn’t done anything to convey the sheer size of the things, she realized. Far beyond anything Earth was capable of constructing with current technology. Even the small white one that Coran had identified as a castle-ship (and it did look like a castle, she had to admit) towered over them as they approached. As they entered the shadow it cast across the sands, she was able to make out a lone figure standing by the front door. She studied the man as they pulled up in front of him, and was surprised to see he could have passed for Human if not for his pointed, elf-like ears and the pale blue markings below the corners of his eyes. He stepped forward and gave a slight bow. “Welcome. I am Coran, advisor to Princess Allura of Altea. Welcome aboard the Castle of Lions.” He awarded her and Ryou a friendly smile, and Iverson a stiff nod. “Everyone’s waiting to see you on the main deck.”

 

“Nice to meet you.” After a round of handshakes, they followed him through the massive doors, so elegant you almost couldn’t tell they were designed to seal against space travel, and into the maze of blue-lit hallways. Iverson, the only one of the three of them who had been inside an alien craft before, was looking around with interest. No doubt mentally comparing the design to that of the small pod that had brought Takashi back to Earth a year earlier.

 

As they approached a large set of double doors, Colleen heard voices from the other side, slightly muffled. Most of them were ones she recognized from the security footage she’d stolen from the Garrison’s computers or from the battle transmissions they’d listened to on the radio during the drive here.

 

“So how long are the repairs going to take?”

 

“Several rotations, I believe, before the worst damage is repaired sufficiently to survive a wormhole journey.”

 

“That’s good, it gives us some time to spend with our families before we have to leave again.”

 

“And just enough time to completely screw up our sleep schedules again.” Her heart skipped a beat as she heard that particular voice, so painfully familiar to her even after over a year. “The ship’s day isn’t matched up with where we are right now, and I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re different lengths, too.”

 

She couldn’t wait any longer. Lengthening her stride, Colleen brushed past Coran to get the the large doors, which slid smoothly open in front of her. Her entrance interrupted the discussion between several people clad in white armor with coloured accents, and a few others in odd-looking tunics, one of whom had the same pointed ears and colourful facial markings as Coran, all of whom turned to look at her. Then one of them, a small ginger-haired figure in green-accented armor, broke away from the group and sprinted towards her. “ _ Mom! _ ”

 

“Katie!” She just managed to get her arms up in time to catch Katie as her daughter barrelled into her hard enough to knock the wind out of her. Her arms wrapped tightly around the teenager even as smaller ones wound themselves around her middle. “Oh my god, Katiebug!” Colleen managed to draw in a shaky breath and buried her face in the mop of messy hair, not caring one bit that it was sweaty and tangled or that she was dampening it further with long-withheld tears. She had her daughter back, safe and sound. She could feel the energy and life in her, subtly different from when she’d last held her nearly two years ago before her madcap scheme to infiltrate the Garrison but still familiar nonetheless, and she nearly sobbed in relief.

 

Katie was laughing through tears as she clutched at her. “Holy shit, Mom, I can’t believe you’re here! I missed you so much!” Bright amber eyes shone as the younger looked up at her, beaming fit to split her face in two. She looked different as well, more mature and confident than Colleen remembered. She’d grown in more ways than one.

 

“That makes two of us sweetheart.” Colleen whispered through tears of her own as she placed a firm kiss to her daughter’s forehead. She couldn’t have let go of her if she tried, right now. Despite the storm of emotions running wild through them both, Colleen could see the confidence and feel Katie’s independence even more strongly than before, and it sent a pang of regret through her that her daughter had grown up, and she hadn’t been able to witness it. Holding her again was as happy as it was bittersweet. As she glanced up, she caught sight of another messy ginger head among the variously teary or grinning faces watching their reunion. Matt was tucked against Takashi’s side, watching them with a fond smile on his face and tears on his cheeks, and Colleen’s eyes widened. 

 

If the changes in Katie were subtle, the ones in her son were pronounced. Most obvious was the set of parallel scars--claw marks?--slicing diagonally across the left side of his face, and the fogged-over eye on that side. But there were other changes too. Stress lines around his eyes, making him look older than he should. An uprightness in his bearing, all youthful awkwardness left behind. And when Takashi put a hand on his back to give him a gentle push toward her, he limped-- _ limped! _ \--in a way that suggested the limitation was something he was well used to and that sent waves of pain through her heart and left her fighting against the urge to run forward and simply scoop him into her arms. Somehow, despite studying the images of Takashi with his metal prosthetic, the scar across his face, and the shock of scar-whitened hair, it had never occurred to her that any of her family might be similarly changed, and the reality left her momentarily reeling. Whatever had happened up there, neither of her children were the same as they’d been when they left. They weren’t children anymore.

 

There was a hesitance in his gait as he approached that had nothing to do with the limp, and as soon as he was within reach she freed an arm from Katie’s shoulders and stepped forward to pull him tightly into her arms as well. He immediately buried his face in her shoulder and she pressed a soft kiss to the side of his head as she felt him trembling against her, hands fisting in the back of her shirt. Katie had obviously felt the same thing, letting go of Colleen with one arm to wrap around his waist in silent comfort.

 

“Sh, I’ve got you, baby. You’re okay.” Her voice shook with relief at having her son back in her arms, and she stroked his hair gently, drawing comfort from the familiar sensation and trying to give comfort in return. The passing of time had barely put a scratch on the grief of losing her oldest child, and then when Katie also went missing… Colleen contained the sobs that threatened to break free. Even after the discovery that Takashi had survived, she’d been left to wonder helplessly about the fate of the other two crew members. But now, thank god, she had her answer, at least for one of them.

 

As if sensing her thoughts, Matt pulled back slightly, his one remaining amber eye bright with unshed tears. Colleen tried not to look at the other too much yet. “I’m sorry, Mom.” He whispered hoarsely. He wouldn’t meet her eyes, keeping his head stiffly forward and a sharp stab of pain went through her heart. She couldn’t help feeling that she knew what was coming. “Dad is...Dad’s gone. I tried, Mom. I swear I tried to protect him.” The raw guilt in his voice was agonizing to listen to. How long had he been carrying it inside him? “I’m so sorry.”

 

Lifting her other arm from Katie’s shoulders, she pulled her son tightly back against her, hugging him with all the strength and love she could give her battered child. “I know, Matt. It’s okay. You did your best.” Fresh tears ran down her cheeks, the wetness of her voice surprising her, and Colleen could feel him shuddering as he finally gave in to his emotions and cried, his voice rising and falling erratically as he hid his face against her the way he used to when he was younger. “What matters right now is that you and Katie are safe. You’re safe, and you’re here, and I’ve got both of you back.” Reaching out for a moment, she tugged her daughter closer again, where she could hold them both tightly and reassure both herself and them that they were back where they belonged.

 

Deep down, she thought she’d always known that Sam would not be coming home, although she couldn’t have known then why her heart had ached the last time she kissed him goodbye at the launchpad before he disappeared into the Persephone’s open hatch. The absence of his voice among those being broadcast from the battle above had only confirmed that lingering feeling deep in her gut. But she could live with that, as much as it broke heart heart that their family could never be the same again. She had her children back, and while she knew they had taken a long and painful journey to come back to her, right now the fact they were safe in her arms was all that mattered.


	34. Chapter 34

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No warnings for this chapter
> 
> Ugh, I am so sorry this chapter took so long to come out, guys. Chapter 37 refused to let me binge write any of it except about the last 1000 words or so, I had to drag it into being a paragraph or two at a time. Good news, though, chapter 37 is the Keith/Kurogane/Kovirak reunion you've all been screaming for!
> 
> Also, tomorrow I'll be travelling halfway across the country to visit my family for about a week, and I don't know yet what that'll do to my time/ability to write. Just letting you guys know. Wish me luck and minimal your-family-disapproves-of-your-life-choices anxiety, please!

Shiro scrubbed at his eyes and let out a harsh breath as Matt and Pidge clung to their mother. It relieved him more than he had the words to describe to see those three reunited at last, a moment that for a long time he had been afraid would never come. He knew that Colleen wouldn’t have believed the Garrison’s lies any more than Pidge had, but that simply left their fates hanging in limbo for her, and her daughter’s as well later on. All three had endured so much. They deserved this. But their father, Colleen’s husband, should have been there too, and the black paladin knew he would never forgive himself for failing to bring his entire crew back safe as a pilot was supposed to do.

 

The guilt sat heavy in his chest, but it was still easier to think about than the events of earlier, aboard the Weblum’s Breath. Being forced to attack his teammate, the  _ kid _ he was supposed to be  _ protecting _ , and then the whole thing with his  _ arm _ \--

 

He jerked himself roughly away from that train of thought. He couldn’t think about that right now. The implications were too numerous, and too painful. Better to save it for when he was alone, with no one to see him break.

 

Footsteps in the doorway provided a welcome distraction. Commander Iverson was the first to enter, and Shiro felt himself tense in automatic reaction, remembering the man’s voice giving the order to sedate him even as Shiro tried desperately to warn them of the impending threat. He didn’t miss the sharp glares that Keith, Lance, and even Hunk directed toward the man as well, or the way the red paladin shifted slightly in between the two of them defensively. That calmed him somewhat. No way would Iverson try anything right here and now, alone against the entire team.

 

The soldier stepped off to the side, making room in the doorway for one more person, and a soft laugh slipped out of Shiro’s mouth before he realized it. Ryou looked just as he remembered him, right down to the unbrushed bedhead and rumpled clothes. His adopted brother looked around for a moment before two pairs of dark eyes met and the older’s face split into a broad grin as he strode across the room toward him and threw his arms around him in a fierce hug.

 

The sheer familiarity of it knocked the wind out of Shiro for a moment, and he leaned into the embrace, closing his eyes. Despite the difference in their ages, he and Ryou had always been close, and his hug felt like home in a way he’d almost forgotten. He felt tears burning in the corners of his eyes and fought not to let them spill over as his hands tangled in the back of his brother’s shirt, holding on tight as though the other would vanish if he didn’t.

 

“God, Takashi, don’t you scare me like that again.” The older muttered in his ear, his voice thick with emotion. Shiro felt his brother’s arms winding around him, strong and comforting.  “When those lying jerks told us you’d died, it was...I couldn’t…” He trailed off, unable to find the words for the obvious heartbreak he was trying to express, but the convulsive tightening of his hug and the hitch in his breathing said it all for him.

 

A fresh wave of guilt washed through Shiro at the pain he’d inadvertently caused, and he clutched tighter at his brother. “I’m so sorry, Ryou. I never meant for this to happen, I swear.”

 

A wet-sounding huff of laughter against his ear. “Well obviously. I highly doubt even you could plan to get abducted by aliens, get back to earth, and take off again in a robot lion with four teenagers. I mean, you always did have a nose for mischief, but that’s a bit much, even for you.”

 

Shiro blinked and pulled back, staring at his brother in confusion. “How do you know about all that? I figured it would have been covered up the same way Kerberos was.”

 

“It was.” Ryou smirked, rubbing at his own watery eyes and jerked his head at Colleen across the room. “But that one sure wasn’t going to just sit around and let the Garrison lie to her face. I got roped into her investigations a couple weeks ago and well, long story short, let’s just say the two of us were probably the least surprised people on the planet when you guys showed up to take on those jerks up there.”

 

The black paladin shook his head in quiet disbelief. Trust Colleen Holt to put the pieces together and figure out what had happened to her family. Pidge and Matt both got their brains from their parents after all, not to mention their tenacity. Although how exactly had his brother ended up involved? Ryou was an  _ archaeologist _ . And yet together they’d somehow ended up knowing a lot more than had been released to the public. Clearly those two had a story of their own to tell, once they all had a chance to sit down and talk.

 

“Knowing Colleen, not to mention her kids, somehow that doesn’t surprise me.” He chuckled. “You’ll have to tell us all about it.”

 

“Only if you tell us what your group’s been up to as well. Our knowledge stops--mostly--after the blue lion disappeared into that portal near Pluto, and it’s been driving us both crazy not knowing where you went.”

 

“If you don’t mind, I’d be very interested in hearing both stories as well.” A new voice cut in. Both Shirogane’s turned to see Commander Iverson regarding them from a respectful distance. “I’m fairly certain I know most of what Holt and your brother have been up to, Captain Shirogane,” and Shiro blinked at that because that sure as hell hadn’t been his rank when he left, he’d only been a Second Lieutenant then, had he been promoted? “But I’d very much like to know your story as well. First, however, I believe I owe you an apology.”

 

“Ah...sir?” Shiro blinked in confusion, putting a calming hand on Keith’s shoulder as he felt the red paladin bristling next to him and glaring at their former superior officer. Ryou had also crossed his arms and was staring the soldier down.

 

Iverson heaved a tired sigh. “I am sorry for the way you were treated on your previous return to Earth. Policies had been laid out in case of such an event that included sedation and isolation to avoid leaking information that was highly classified--in this case the existence of aliens--to those without sufficient clearance to know about it--that is, most of the officers on base--in order to avoid triggering mass panic. Had things continued according to policy, it is my understanding you would have been taken to speak with those who did have clearance to convey your message personally.” He grimaced. “Which is why I went along with those policies despite your distress. I had  _ hoped _ that you might be able to convince them of the potential threat where they disregarded my concerns.”

 

The world seemed off-balance under Shiro’s feet. Distantly he was aware that the others in the room had drawn closer to listen to the conversation, that Keith was wide-eyed in surprise, and Ryou looked like someone had hit him with a brick. Iverson’s apology shed an entirely new light on an encounter that he barely remembered beyond desperation and fear. “I...uh...I guess I can understand that. Thank you.

 

He received a small nod in reply as Iverson turned his attention to his brother. “Mr. Shirogane.” Another turn, this time towards the Holts, where Colleen and Pidge were both glaring furiously at him and even Matt looked grim. “Mrs. and Ms. Holt. I owe all of you an apology as well. I never agreed with the decision to lie to your families about the fate of the mission, but I couldn’t tell you the truth without compromising my position as base commander.”

 

Colleen’s eyes flashed darkly. “So your rank was more important than our knowing our families might not be dead?”

 

“When I was using it to ensure that the only pilots who completed the fighter program were those with the right mindset for combat so they might stand a chance against hostile aliens, while trying to discourage the ones who were too soft-hearted right out of the program?” Iverson shot a significant look at Lance, whose eyes widened. Shiro remembered him mentioning the way the Commander had loved to pick on him once he got bumped up to fighter class. So his skill had never been at issue at all, only his too-big heart, which Iverson had actually been trying to spare from the realities of combat. Today was just full of surprises. “Yes. It was important. But you deserved to know, which is why I did my best to discreetly assist your daughter’s investigations without actively appearing to go against policy.”

 

It was Pidge’s turn to scowl as her mother digested Iverson’s reasoning. “Assist me how? By banning me from Garrison property?”

 

Iverson nodded, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “You got caught breaking in, so my options were limited, unfortunately. However, I never for a second thought it would actually  _ stop _ you. Did it, Mr. Gunderson?” There was a slight smirk on his face now as he lowered his hand and raised an eyebrow at the youngest Holt.

 

Pidge flushed. “You...you knew?” 

 

A snort of derision from the old soldier. “Please. Two weeks after you get banned the communications class gets a transfer student that looks like a miniature version of Matthew Holt? Exactly how stupid do you think I am?” The blush deepened drastically, but the green paladin had the grace to keep her mouth shut despite a few teasing sniggers from Lance, Hunk, and Matt. Even Alejandro and Kurogane looked amused by the revelation that the youngest paladin hadn’t been  _ quite _ as clever as she thought. “Although I don’t believe anyone  _ else _ noticed, so…” Iverson shook his head in despair at his colleagues’ obliviousness. “At least you were easier to cover for as Gunderson. And so was your mother, for that matter.”

 

Colleen let out a startled noise of consternation. Shiro chuckled despite himself, the poor woman looked so thrown by the fact that the man at the top of her enemies list had in fact been on her side all along, and covering for them both. “...I knew that hack seemed too easy.” She huffed after a moment.

 

“What hack?” Matt looked over at his mother, curious, as did Pidge.

 

Iverson chuckled. “She raided the Garrison database for classified files relating to aliens. And then leaked them to the net.”

 

The eldest Holt scowled, cheeks pink. “I was trying to use public opinion to force the Garrison to ramp up its strength in case the ships ever came back.”

 

“Which I’m grateful for.” The Commander sighed, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Even if we didn’t have time for it to do its work, in the end.”

 

“I don’t think it would have worked even if you did.” Alejandro’s voice was quiet, but still managed to carry.  Everyone turned his way, and Shiro saw Iverson’s eyebrows shoot up in confusion as he glanced back and forth between the time traveller and his younger self.

 

“What do you mean?” Ryou asked, seemingly the least phased by the two extra humans and their similarity to Lance and Keith. But then, if he’d spent the last couple weeks figuring out that aliens existed and had abducted the Kerberos mission, 

Shiro knew his brother probably wasn’t going to be surprised by much anymore.

 

The former blue paladin sighed, raking a hand through his hair. “We’re time-travellers.” He waved his other hand to indicate Kurogane as well as himself. “In our history, this battle took place over a year and a half from now, and there were no reinforcements from the ground at all.”

 

There was a stunned pause as the newest arrivals digested this revelation. “Alright.” Colleen said slowly. “I think we all better sit down and let you tell us the whole story.”

 

_________

 

Hunk yawned and leaned back to rest his head on the back of the couch. Now that he had a chance to just sit and breathe, the exhaustion from the battle was hitting him hard. No one else seemed quite as tired, but then, he’d been using an aspect continuously throughout the three-hour fight and the clean-up afterward. Considering the aspects were based from quintessence, and quintessence was supposed to be life force, it made sense he’d be feeling drained after something like that.

 

He heard his name and wearily lifted his head again to see what was going on. Pidge was talking animatedly, and he blearily made out the words ‘Taujeerian’ and ‘armor’. Oh. She was recounting their rescue of the Taujeerians, back when he’d gotten the Earth aspect. He tipped his head back again and closed his eyes.

 

They’d spent the last hour or so taking turns working their way through the events of their time away from Earth, sometimes in detail and sometimes glossing over their darker moments. Shiro and Matt had gone first, covering the year after the Kerberos mission as well as Matt’s year with the Icebringers, and neither made any effort to hide how unwilling they were to go into detail. Shiro had literally only uttered a handful of sentences about his year in the arena, and his brother hadn’t pushed him. And no one said anything when Matt nearly broke down again explaining what had happened to Commander Holt, aside from his Mom pulling him close again to comfort him.

 

Despite how abbreviated some of their adventures were, it was still taking a while to get through everything because they kept having to stop and explain things that the space-farers were so used to they no longer gave it a second thought but that Colleen, Ryou, and Commander Iverson were utterly baffled by. It made for a bit of jumping around, but they’d managed to keep things more or less coherent. The worst part, though, was they would have to do this all again two more times for his and Lance’s families once they finally got to see them.

 

Speaking of Lance. Hunk opened his eyes again and glanced over at the blue paladin beside him. The other teen had been oddly quiet, letting the others tell most of the story, and instead seemed lost in thought as he picked at the bandages wrapped around his right hand. The yellow paladin frowned, nudging the other lightly with his shoulder. “You okay, buddy?” He asked, keeping his voice low so as not to interrupt the others as Keith took over the narrative to talk about their first time going to the headquarters of the Blade. How were they doing, anyway? Kolivan had said he needed to recall his operatives because they were compromised. He just hoped they’d all made it out in time.

 

Lance startled, looking up. “What? Yeah, of course.” He gave a small laugh, but it sounded hollow and Hunk shot him a disbelieving look that made the other wince. “Okay, fine.” He huffed a soft breath, staring down at his lap. “I’m just...really not looking forward to when we explain what happened today.” The discomfort in his voice was obvious, and Hunk frowned.

 

“On the Weblum’s Breath?” He was fairly certain, but wanted to confirm, and received a small nod in return. “We already know some of it. Alejandro was able to use the mind link you guys have to...look? I guess? Through your eyes, and see what was happening.”

 

Instead of reassuring Lance that he wouldn’t have to talk about as much of it, Hunk’s words seemed to have the opposite effect. The blue paladin stiffened beside him, and seemed almost...afraid? “How...how much did you see?” His voice was a thin whisper.

 

Hunk blinked. “Well, when he looked the first time, you were hurt and Shiro was coming after you because Haggar was controlling him. We know most of what happened after that, with Shiro’s bayard, and his arm--that must have been an aspect, right? Because Alejandro was saying something about it never being the arm at all, which didn’t make much sense until he explained that his arm was lit up with quintessence like the old prosthetic used to do--and you shooting out the lattice. You did really good, by the way. I didn’t know you could shoot with your off hand.” He gestured to the sling.

 

A small smile twisted the other’s lips. “Tio Kieran insisted I know how to shoot one-handed with both, just in case I couldn’t use one hand for some reason. Lucky for us. And lucky Kovirak had a one-handed blaster on her.”

 

“Kovirak?” Hunk stopped short, straightening. “Who’s Kovirak?”

 

“The Blade who was helping us on the ship. She came back with us after.” Frowning, Lance lifted his head and looked around. “Where’d she go, anyway? I know she was on the main deck when we were landing.”

 

Frowning as well, Hunk thought back to their arrival back on the main deck once they finally finished the battle clean-up. They’d only just had time to get there from their lions before the Castle-ship began its descent into atmosphere. He remembered Allura manning the main controls, Coran at the communications console where he was confirming the descent coordinates with the few Icebringer ships that still needed to land. And he remembered Matt helping Lance limp into the room behind them, both of their eyes immediately seeking out the broad expanse of screens that showed the sky lightening around them. There had been a Galra, he realized, trailing behind the other two with bandages on her shoulder and cheek, but he’d been more focused on reassuring himself that his best friend was okay. Then he blinked. “Wait. Isn’t Kovirak the name of the Blade Kolivan mentioned he was pretty sure was the traitor?”

 

There was an instant of stunned silence between the two of them, filled only with the sounds of Shiro summarizing the Beta Traz mission with frequent laughing interjections from Pidge about his adventures with Slav, before Lance groaned and dragged his hand down his face. “ _ Crap! _ I  _ knew _ that name sounded familiar! I  _ knew _ it and it kept bugging me, but I couldn’t  _ remember _ !” He scowled in frustration. “If I’d known I would’ve kicked her behind right then and there!”

 

Hunk put a comforting hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Hey. You had other things on your mind at the time, remember? And she didn’t sabotage the mission, did she?”

 

Lance shook his head. “No. She was helping us. Even went after Haggar when she--” He cut himself off, biting his lip. The anxious look in his eyes was back, and it bothered the yellow paladin immensely. Exactly what had happened on that ship that was bothering the other teen so much? Something to do with whatever Haggar had done to Shiro, by the sound of it. Maybe just a reluctance to think about what must have been a terrifying experience? With a grimace, Hunk put an arm around Lance’s shoulder and tugged him against his side, letting him rest his head on his shoulder. He was rewarded by a slight uncoiling of the tension in the other’s body. “She was helping us. And she definitely hated Haggar.” The blue paladin said finally. “You could see it easy.”

 

“Guess we’ll ask her when she reappears, then.”

 

Lance snorted. “Assuming she does. If she is the traitor, maybe she ran off while we were all distracted. And if she is and she still comes back, well…” He looked over at Keith and Kurogane, the latter of whom was giving a clipped summary of the circumstances that had driven them to make a six-year leap back in time. Despite the lack of detail, Ryou, Colleen, and Iverson all looked horrified, and Colleen had tightened her arms around Matt and Pidge. Even as they tuned in to the discussion, Hunk could hear the bitterness in Kurogane’s voice as he mentioned that the Blades had been slaughtered because of a traitor in their midst. If Kovirak was the traitor, that was a conversation they were going to have to handle very delicately.

 

Lance heaved a long sigh, and Hunk tactfully changed the subject. “How’s your hand and your arm?” He asked, unable to keep the worry out of his voice. Alejandro hadn’t been able to tell them much beyond where the pain was localized to and how intense it was, since Lance hadn’t actually been looking at the injuries when his older self used the link. It had been hugely reassuring that Matt hadn’t deemed it necessary to put the blue paladin in a pod, but he still worried.

 

“Arm’s not too bad. Just a graze, really.” He was awarded a reassuring smile, a genuine one this time. “And my hand looks worse than it actually is, Matt says. Like, a lot worse. Ripped off the back of it, that’s why it hurts so much, because it ripped up all the nerves, but no really major damage to anything important, thank god. Or not much anyway. He’s a little worried about the mobility of a couple of fingers, but it’s not like we have a pod to spare for a non-critical injury right now.”

 

Hunk frowned, but nodded. There were only so many pods, and they’d been filled almost immediately with Icebringer fighter pilots again, just like after Trepan Kev. “And the ankle’s just a sprain, right?”

 

Lance hummed a confirmation. “Just gotta try to stay off it for a day or two.”

 

“Good. You should tell Shiro all of that, too, if Matt hasn’t already.” He yawned again in spite of himself. Man, that battle really wore him out.

 

“Can do.” Lance caught himself yawning as well and grimaced. “Man, take a nap. You look exhausted. We’re probably gonna be here for a while anyway. Heck, with debriefing and catching up those three,” he jerked a thumb at their visitors, “We may not even get to go see our families until tomorrow.” Seeing Hunk’s hesitation, he offered a winning smile. “I promise I’ll fill you in after, and if it’s important I’ll wake you up. And if we  _ do _ get to go tonight, you don’t wanna fall asleep in your mama’s oka, right?”

 

After a moment’s consideration, Hunk gave in. Lance made very good points, and right now he doubted he could even manage the walk down to the hangar. “Just an hour or two.” he warned, shaking a finger at his best friend’s knowing grin. The blue paladin simply rolled his eyes and put an arm around his shoulders, pulling him over so he was leaning on the skinnier teen. The yellow paladin sighed, shifting a little to get comfortable as exhaustion pulled at his limbs. Just a short nap. And then afterwards he’d be better able to get his friend to open up about what had happened on the Weblum’s Breath that had him so anxious.

 

________

 

“So, the battle was visible from the surface?” Allura directed the question to the base commander, Mitch Iverson.

 

They had finished recounting most of their own story. But with Lance and Shiro both showing signs of mounting anxiety as the point of retelling the earlier battle approached, she had made the decision not to discuss it with their visitors just yet. She had begged off with the explanation that they hadn’t had a chance to debrief yet, and would be better able to explain things after they had. And with Hunk passed out on Lance’s shoulder, and the others ranging from anxious to exhausted, well, debriefing would have to wait. With what little she already knew about what had happened, her paladins would be better able to come to terms with it once they’d had some time to rest. Iverson had raised an eyebrow at her excuse, but accepted it with surprising equanimity. And when Colleen looked like she might have protested, Ryou had silenced her with a shake of his head.

 

Allura could hardly blame them for their curiosity. Apparently their ship-to-ship transmissions during the battle had been picked up by Earth receivers and re-broadcast live across the globe. While such methods would not have received the benefits of the Castle’s translation software, they would still have heard and understood everything the Humans in the link had to say.

 

“Across most of this hemisphere, yes.” Commander Iverson confirmed. “I’ve been told there was some rioting and looting panic responses in the Eastern cities. Thankfully a large portion of the continent was still early enough in their day not to have as much problem with that.”

 

“Most people were too busy having existential crises to really freak out.” Colleen’s tone was disgusted as she ran a hand through messy hair in exasperation. “That’s why it took us so long to get here. The highway was a fucking parking lot.”

 

The Altean princess winced. That was unfortunate. The Human race just  _ had _ to be in that narrow window of development where a major battle in orbit over the planet could not be explained away as gods or magic, but where the existence of other alien races was not yet such a fact of everyday life that the arrival of such was un-noteworthy. While it was quite rare to make first contact with a race during that stage, such situations had been frequent favourite examples used by her diplomacy tutors because they were invariably complicated, unpredictable, unstable, and massive headaches for everyone involved.

 

She could already feel herself developing one at the thought of the damage control that would be necessary here, given the planet’s... _ less _ than stellar introduction to what interstellar societies were like.

 

Taking a deep breath and straightening, she folded her hands in her lap. “I am terribly sorry for all the difficulty our arrival has caused. Normally your people would have, Galra permitting, been left to make first contact on your own time, once you became capable of interstellar travel. Unfortunately, under the circumstances, that obviously wasn’t an option. If there’s anything we can do to make amends, or to help repair--” She stopped, blinking, because Shiro’s brother was holding up a hand to silence her.

 

“Listen, Princess Allura, don’t worry about any of that. If there’s one thing Humans are good at, it’s cleaning up after messes like this.” He gave her a small grin, much like Shiro’s when he was in a good mood. “Right now, you guys should be focusing on your own problems, whether it’s repairs or giving those kids a chance to see their families again.” Ryou nodded towards the other couch where Lance seemed to have dozed off as well now, his head leaning against Hunk’s. Allura couldn’t help but smile at the sight before she turned her attention back to the young man across from her.

 

“ _ Your _ priority,” He continued, “should be taking down those jerks who’ve been running the show in the worst possible way for way too long. You’ve done your duty in protecting us.” He rose to his feet and gave a bow from the waist, a gesture she’d seen Shiro make before as well. A cultural gesture of respect, if she recalled correctly. “And you have our thanks for that. But now it’s us who should be saying to you, if there’s anything we can do to help, all you have to do is ask. I’m pretty sure I speak for everyone when I say that the people of Earth stand with the Voltron Alliance.”

 

For a moment Allura was stunned into silence by Ryou’s words. A glance to the side revealed that her black paladin was regarding his brother with an openly proud expression that only expanded as Colleen straightened with a fierce “Damn right.” and Iverson nodded sharply, looking fully ready to march into battle himself if she said the word.

 

She had known, of course, how brave and fierce and strong Humans could be. Her paladins demonstrated it every day, every time they went into battle. In another time, under other circumstances, this offer of aid and support would have been laughable, coming from a race not yet capable of interstellar travel to one that had once spread across galaxies. But now, it filled her with awe, as people who had seen what their enemies were capable of, how far beyond them they were in terms of strength and technology, stood ready anyway to assist in the fight for freedom throughout the universe for races and species they had never met. If even one race in a hundred in the universe had had this much courage, the Galra Empire would have never spread beyond its own homeworld.

 

Gratitude and awe swelled in her heart and she found herself blinking away tears as she rose to her feet and bowed deeply. “Then on behalf of--of the  _ rest _ of the Voltron Alliance,” She smiled, “please allow me to say thank you, and--how would Lance put it? Ah, yes. Welcome to the team.”


	35. Chapter 35

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas (or Hanukkah or Kwanzaa) and happy new year, I'm not dead!
> 
> I am so, so sorry for how long this chapter took to come out. The last month and a bit was pretty busy, and then for most of it I couldn't seem to make the words go even when I did have time to sit down and write. Most of chapter 38 was actually written just in the last few days. But I'll say this right now, I promise I have no intention of giving up on this story before it's finished if I can help it. So even if a chapter seems to be a long time coming, unless I've posted my buffer chapters and plot notes so you know what was supposed to happen, assume that I am working on it and it will come out eventually.
> 
> Also, for those who are interested, I wrote a oneshot featuring Sam Holt that explores what fighting against Voltron is like for average joe Galra soldiers. It's kinda dark, and doesn't have the sort of happy ending that I usually write, but some people might still like it. Title is Obverse (History is Written by the Victors).
> 
> No warnings this chapter. Enjoy!

The desert sand was searingly hot under the afternoon sun, leaving Kovirak immensely grateful for the sturdy boots she was wearing, all that was left of the stolen armor she’d been wearing earlier. She could feel the heat even through the thick soles as she kept up a steady lope across the uneven ground. The lightweight tunic she’d been given, of an unfamiliar style, was likewise a blessing in weather hotter than anything she’d felt in many cycles.

 

Getting out of the Castle-ship and away from the cluster of damaged spacecraft had been the easy part, as she found a service hatch easily enough and blended in with the wide assortment of aliens already at work on repairing the larger vessels. Even the bandages on her face and shoulder hadn’t made her stand out, with many of the repair crews sporting minor to moderate injuries themselves. She’d made her way from the shadow of one ship to the next, pausing twice to assist in shifting a particularly heavy piece of broken hull and once to pass up a case of tools. And eventually she’d reached the far side, away from the buildings and runways and hidden from the view of the Humans clustered along the distant fence line, and set off across the open ground without a single glance back.

 

Finding her way to her destination, on the other hand, had been somewhat harder. Sixteen years had altered landmarks and blurred her mental map of the area, despite how much time she’d spent systematically combing the area for useful resources after her landing. It took longer than she wanted to admit to find a rock formation she recognized well enough to use to orient herself, one of the same tall spires that had guided her back to her battered ship the night she left. Now she turned the opposite direction, letting it lead her to a place that had been home for five precious years.

 

Cresting a ridge, she let out a breathless laugh at the sight of a familiar house in the distance. She was almost there.

 

As Kovirak approached the small building, though, she began to feel the first stirrings of unease. There was no sign of Thomas’s truck, and no tire tracks in the dust to show that it might have been there recently. The only vehicle was a hoverbike, and that stood half-buried in sand by the end of the house. Even the machine’s hard-wearing paint was faded and peeling, abused by the sun’s harsh rays.

 

The porch was likewise buried in sand, aside from a path to the door that might have been cleared a week or so ago judging by the thin layer of wind-blown powder over it. Thomas never would have let it pile up like this. Taking care not to slip, she approached the door cautiously, lifted one hand, and knocked.

 

There was no answer. Kovirak felt her ears lay back in anxiety. Something was wrong here.

 

After knocking again, harder, just to be sure, and receiving no response, she tried the handle and found it unlocked, only adding to the sense of wrongness. Pushing the door open, she ducked her head under the low door frame and stepped inside.

 

The cozy home she remembered was gone, some furniture missing and some replaced. A tattered couch. A battered table made of wood and cinder blocks piled with old computers. Peeling, cracked paint. And a wall littered with photos and notes connected with string. Gone were the comfortable double bed, the rocking chair, the crib, the paintings and the soft rug. There was nothing here she recognized. What had  _ happened _ ?

 

Fear filled her and she closed her eyes, scenting the hot air for any trace of her mate or cub. There was the scent of Humans, yes, two of them, several days old. Not Thomas, either of them. And not a trace of Keith. In mounting desperation Kovirak began pacing the room, testing everything that would hold a scent, searching for something, anything, that would reassure her that her family had been here. But the couch and curtains and the one towel she managed to find were devoid of any smell except two unfamiliar Humans and the heat and sand.

 

At last, tucked under the couch, she found a battered duffel bag filled with well-worn clothes, carrying a scent she’d begun to fear she wouldn’t find at all. There could be only one being on this planet who smelled of both Human and Galra, even if it was far from the same scent they’d had as a cub. She clutched the shirt close, breathing her son’s scent deeply to burn it into her memory.

 

The scent was old, though, and faded. Given that the clothes had been in a sealed bag, it had likely been a year or more since they were last worn, more than long enough for the scent to fade from the rest of the house. Why had it been so long? Why was this the only thing in the house that still carried her child's scent? Scrambling back to her feet, she resumed her frantic search.

 

Kovirak lost track of how long she spent combing through every inch of the small house before exhaustion caught up to her and forced her to her knees beside the duffel bag still sitting open on the floor by the couch. Slumping forward, she rested her forehead against the edge of the cushions and closed her eyes, a shuddering breath tearing from her lungs as she fought not to cry.

 

They were gone. Her cub, her precious Keith, had not set foot in this place for at least a year. Only the small stash of clothing still carried his scent. And of Thomas she could find no trace at all, no matter how hard she tried. Her family, the ones she had tried so hard to protect, were not here, and hadn’t been for a very long time.

 

And she had no idea at all how to go about finding them now.

 

________

 

Someone was poking his cheek.

 

Grumbling, he swatted the hand away and nuzzled into the warm pillow under his head. Someone giggled.

 

More poking. He made a small whining noise of displeasure. “Quiddit.” More laughter as he tried to hide his face from the offending finger, which simply switched to his shoulder instead.

 

“Knock it off, Edmundo, ‘m tryna sleep.” The poking finger faltered at that for a moment, hushed voices speaking too low for his sleepy brain to process, before someone firmly shook his shoulder.

 

“Come on, buddy, time to wake up.” A pause, the pillow under his head shaking a bit. “You’re gonna be late for Schoenfeld’s class, and we have a test today.”

 

A test? Today? Shit! Lance bolted upright in a panic. “What?! But I haven’t studied, like, at all! What is it even on?!”

 

Raucous laughter greeted him and he blinked a few times, looking around in confusion before his surroundings sunk in. Hunk was beside him on the couch, grinning from ear to ear as his shoulders shook with silent laughter, a drool stain on his thigh giving away why Lance’s ‘pillow’ had been so warm and wiggly. On the floor next to the couch, Pidge was doubled over wheezing, red in the face as she tried to breathe. And everyone else was watching the byplay with obvious enjoyment and in several cases outright laughter.

 

Lance felt his cheeks go crimson and he hid his face in his good hand with a groan. “ _ Hunk! _ That was mean!”

 

“Worked, didn’t it?” His best friend’s tone was entirely unrepentant. “That never, ever gets old, either.” He grinned at Pidge, who gave him a thumbs up since she was still laughing too hard to speak.

 

He pouted. “So much adrenaline is not good for my heart, asere, you know how terrifying Schoenfeld’s tests are!” He clutched dramatically at his chest, or tried to, but the sling got in the way. “I think I still have nightmares about the last one!”

 

Hunk snorted, but nodded. “Yeah, that one was pretty bad, I’ll give you that. Didn’t like three people cry?”

 

“Four. And one threw up.”

 

“Alright, you guys, settle down.” Shiro’s voice was shaking with barely contained laughter. “As nice as it is to know that you guys suffered as much as Matt and I did,” There was a snort from the younger male, who muttered something about final exams and running away into space, “now that Lance is awake it’s debriefing time.”

 

Lance felt all his laughter drain away in an instant, the smile wiped off his face. Sitting up properly, he gave a small nod to the black paladin and pretended not to notice the concerned look Hunk was giving him. He knew he couldn’t avoid this conversation forever, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t dreading it with every fibre of his being.

 

Around him, the others were rearranging themselves as well, sitting closer where they could all see and hear each other. Pidge picked herself up and settled on the couch next to him and Lance realized that while he was asleep Iverson, Ryou, and Colleen had disappeared. Iverson had probably gone back to the Garrison to keep an eye on things, but he couldn’t imagine Pidge’s mom would have gone far from her kids now that she’d gotten them back. Maybe Allura had given them temporary rooms. It had been pretty early in this part of the country when they arrived, hadn’t it?

 

Across from the couch he, Pidge, and Hunk were on, Matt was tucked on one side of Shiro, idly massaging his bad knee, while Keith sat on the other. The red paladin’s arms were folded, tucked close to his chest, and Lance noticed that he kept making furtive glances at both Lance himself and Shiro, as though reassuring himself they were both still there. The black paladin he could understand, given how close the two were, but he was surprised Keith seemed to be worried about him as well. Then again, the distant teen finally seemed to be opening up to the idea of having close attachments to his teammates. And part of being family was worrying about each other.

 

Kurogane was on Keith’s other side, with Alejandro on the arm of the couch beside him. The older red paladin’s gaze was also flicking to Shiro periodically, and had been since they got back to the Castle. The pair had met them in the hangar when they got back, and a startled black paladin had found himself subjected to a vice-grip hug from the old timeline’s Keith the minute he left Black. Not that Lance, or anyone else, could blame him for needing that reassurance any more than they could Keith. The low neck of the tunic the former paladin was wearing did nothing to conceal the handprint-shaped scar wrapped around his throat, and Lance hastily looked away from that uncomfortable reminder of how things could have turned out earlier.

 

Allura settled in next to Pidge, and Coran was already sitting on Hunk’s other side with a data tablet in his lap. The Princess looked tired but collected, probably from operating the defenses, and whatever the advisor was feeling was masked by his usual aura of calm amiability.

 

“Alright, let’s get started.” Shiro’s voice was calm and level, but Lance didn’t miss the hints of strain around his eyes as he surveyed the room. Neither of them were looking forward to this, apparently. “First things first, Keith, Pidge, how did things go with Mars and Luna?”

 

The two exchanged a glance, and Keith sighed. “Mars station is mostly okay. A couple storage buildings got destroyed, and some machinery, but the main structure didn’t get hit. No casualties, I checked in to make sure before I left.”

 

Pidge grimaced. “Wish I could say the same. I think four or five substations got wiped out before we could even get there, and a few others had to be evacuated due to damage. I know one of the secondary domes at Luna Main got breached, too, but I didn’t have time to check in there. Too busy.” The look on her face betrayed her guilt at failing to protect the far-flung Lunar habitats, and Lance quickly put his arm around her shoulder comfortingly. Civilian casualties were an unfortunate fact of war, something that happened no matter how hard they tried to prevent it, but it was definitely worse when it was your own people. He knew, though, that she’d done everything she could.

 

Shiro obviously agreed, judging by his sympathetic expression. “You did well, both of you. You were put in a very difficult situation, with many vulnerable targets and a lot of enemies, and you saved a lot of lives. I’m proud of you both.”

 

Although she didn’t look entirely convinced, the green paladin nodded and ran a hand through her hair. “Those domes are gonna be a pain to set up defense systems for, there’s so many of them.” She paused, glancing over at Allura. “We  _ are _ setting up defenses before we leave, right? We can’t just leave Earth defenseless, and I don’t trust Haggar and Lotor not to come right back, even with the Weblum’s Breath out of commission. Even just particle barriers and emergency bunkers would be better than nothing.” 

 

“Of course.” The Princess assured her quickly. “It will take a little time to figure out what defense systems can be built and operated with existing Earth technology, but I had no intention of taking us anywhere until at least some protection is in place for your home.” Lifting her head, her gaze drifted in the direction of the Icebringer ships, not visible through the metal walls. “Shiiar’keh and the others may have some ideas as well, and I know they’ll want to help.”

 

Most of those present relaxed at the Allura’s confident reassurance, and Shiro sighed. “Alright. Is there anything else Lance and I missed while we were on the Weblum’s Breath that we need to know about?”

 

Hunk shifted, straightening a little. “Well, I already told Lance this, but, apparently the link between him and Alejandro goes both ways. We know part of what happened while you guys were on the ship because he used it to look and see what was going on.”

 

“Speaking of, you promised me an explanation, Pidge.” Alejandro exclaimed. “What is  _ up _ with that link?”

 

The green paladin groaned, flopping back on the couch as both Lance and Alejandro pinned her with expectant stares. “Okay, okay, fine! I’ll tell you what I know.” She held up a hand in warning. “Which isn’t all that much, okay?”

 

At Lance’s nod, she continued, sighing and crossing her arms. “Basically, ever since you two arrived, Lance has been having nightmares. Based on conversations I had with the both of you on a day you  _ didn’t _ have nightmares,” She shot a meaningful look at first one Cuban, then the other, and Lance felt his cheeks going crimson. He’d been trying to forget about  _ that _ particular incident! “You guys are having the same dreams at the same time. Alejandro, what did you dream about your first night back here?”

 

The time-traveller paled, swallowing hard. “...The Weblum’s Breath.” He said quietly.

 

“So did Lance. He’s been sharing your nightmares ever since.” She straightened, turning towards Lance and fidgeting with her glasses. “That’s why you didn’t have one when you napped in the hangar that one day. Alejandro wasn’t asleep.”

 

“Okay, so I’m sharing his nightmares, and I was able to get into one of his memories. To find out how long we had during the battle.” He added quickly in explanation, seeing his counterpart’s startled expression. “And Hunk said he was able to get in and see through my eyes.” He glanced over for confirmation, and the older male nodded. “That’s...I don’t suppose you have any idea  _ why _ we have a link?”

 

Pidge shrugged helplessly. “Not a clue. I can make some guesses, but there’s no way to prove them. Obviously it’s related to the time travel somehow, but Kurogane and Keith  _ aren’t _ linked, and Kurogane can’t feel this timeline’s Red like Alejandro can with Blue. So the Lions may have something to do with it too. I just don’t know.”

 

Something nudged at Lance’s memory, some whisper of conversation, but it flitted away from him before he could grasp it. “Alright, so we don’t know why it happened or what we can do about it.” He groaned, slumping back on the couch. “Helpful.”

 

“Hey, don’t complain. It came in damn handy today.” The small paladin straightened, regarding him intently with an odd twist to her lips. “If Alejandro hadn’t been able to see what was happening, and if Shiro hadn’t managed to break Haggar’s control…” She paused, drawing in a shaky breath. “You both would’ve…and we wouldn’t have  _ known. _ You’d be gone and we’d never have found out what happened to you both.”

 

Lance’s eyes widened in dismay as Pidge let out a soft sound of distress and rubbed roughly at her eyes, too overwhelmed by the day’s events to rein in her emotions. Quickly, he reached out and pulled her against him again with his good arm. “It’s okay, Pidgey, we’re here and we’re safe.” He murmured. “You didn’t lose either of us.”

 

Behind him, he felt Hunk shifting closer as well, a strong arm wrapping around them both. And a glance to the side showed him Matt lacing his fingers with Shiro’s and Keith abandoning all pretense of collectedness in favour of pressing up against the Black Paladin’s side. Even Allura’s calm demeanour had slipped, her hands fisted in her skirts as she regarded them both with suspiciously bright eyes, while Kurogane hid his face against his partner’s shoulder.

 

For a few moments the only sound was Pidge’s ragged breathing and occasional sniffle, muffled in his chest, before she finally straightened up again. She made no move leave his lap, though, instead regarding him unhappily. “...Seriously, though, what even  _ happened _ in there?” She demanded, fingers tightening on his shirt.

 

“I think we’d all like to know the answer to that.” Alejandro put in grimly, stroking Kurogane’s hair with one hand as he surveyed the group. “Because if it wasn’t the prosthetic, which it can’t have been, since it’s  _ gone _ , then what the hell was she using to control you?” He turned his attention fully to Shiro, obviously desperate for an answer.

 

The black paladin shook his head and sighed, expression apologetic. “I don’t know. While she was controlling me, I could see what was happening, and I could feel, but I couldn’t hear or speak. It was like I was a passenger in my own body.” He shuddered. “I did hear Haggar a couple of times, but only when she was giving orders.” His hands clenched involuntarily, and he looked slightly ill at the memory.

 

Kurogane’s hand came up to touch the scar on his throat, his face pained. “Lance? Do you know?” There was a pleading note in his voice, the former red paladin as desperate as his partner for a way to prevent this from happening again.

 

Lance swallowed hard, staring down at the floor. This was the part he’d been dreading. He had an answer for them, but it wasn’t a pleasant one. “Yeah.” He sighed heavily. “I do.”

 

A thick silence fell on the room. He could feel nine pairs of eyes on him, but refused to meet any of them. He could feel tension in Pidge’s small frame against his own, and in Hunk’s arm across his shoulder.

 

“It was never the arm.” Lance said slowly, trying to put off coming right out and saying it. “There was no built-in override. We were wrong about that this whole time.” He heard a strangled noise from Alejandro, a confused murmur from Pidge, and let out a wry laugh. “Guess those techs had it right. It really was just a standard prosthetic.”

 

“Then how was she controlling him, Lance?” Matt’s tone was patient, non-judgemental. Would he still sound the same once he knew the truth?

 

“...An aspect.”

 

The stunned silence that followed sat like a weight on his chest, stretching out painfully around them. It was Hunk who finally broke it, asking the question they were all afraid to know the answer to. “Which one?” He said it softly, and something told Lance that his best friend had already put the pieces together, that he already knew what he was going to say.

 

The words were bitter on his tongue as he finally lifted his head, looking straight at Alejandro and Kurogane where they sat hand in hand on the other couch. “Blue. The blue personality trait. That’s what Haggar used to control Shiro.”

 

All the colour seemed to drain from his older counterpart’s face in an instant, blue eyes going wide with naked horror. His mouth worked soundlessly, and he seemed to curl in himself, fingers going slack in his shocked partner’s grip as he processed the revelation, and its implications.

 

“...aspect? But that would mean Haggar has…”

 

“As if she wasn’t…”

 

“...do you  _ block _ an  _ aspect? _ ”

 

“... same to any of us…”

 

The frantic discussion seemed to flow around the edges of a pocket of silence containing only the three of them, Lance, Alejandro, and Kurogane. The raw guilt and shame written plainly across the older blue paladin’s face was brutally obvious, and mirrored the sharp pain in the younger’s chest. Lance could understand all too well what Alejandro was feeling right now. To know that the thing that had cost Shiro his life in the old timeline, had forced him to brutally injure and nearly kill his own teammates, and had nearly done the same again in this one, was an ability that  _ you _ were supposed to have as well? Something that  _ you _ were physically capable of doing?

 

He didn’t understand it. Every aspect so far had seemed like such a positive thing. Upgrades to the Lions. Abilities that let them help each other and protect their team. Pidge’s healing touch, Hunk’s BLIP-sense. Keith was supposed to have teleportation, once he unlocked it. And who knew what Shiro was capable of, now that they knew his arm hadn’t been what they thought it was. But this?

 

Sonic cannon. Maneuvering thrusters. Bayard merging. Hell, even time travel could all be used in positive ways. All the other aspects of blue quintessence unlocked such useful things, things that he could use to help his team. But straight up mind control? He couldn’t see a way that could be used to do anything but hurt, the same way it had been used against Shiro. Being forced to turn against your allies, having them turned against you, was  _ terrifying _ , and he wouldn’t wish that on his worst enemy, not even the one who had used it against them.

 

Alejandro was trembling now, his arms wrapped tightly around himself and his eyes screwed shut. Kurogane reached for him, tried to pull him into his arms, only to be shrugged off sharply. The former red paladin pulled back slightly, hurt flashing across his face. “Alejandro…”

 

“Don’t.” The word cracked out harshly, and Lance winced. “Just. Don’t.” A deeply inhaled breath as the older blue paladin fought for calm. “I can’t believe...that’s...that’s really our last ability?” His voice broke on the last word, his eyes seeking out Lance’s. All Lance could do was nod, hand clenched into a white-knuckled fist, and look away when his older self’s eyes darkened with despair.

 

Loyalty and trust, ha. What a joke. How could anyone trust someone who had an ability like that? Or had the potential for it? He could see his own fear mirrored in his counterpart’s face, in the way he leaned away from the man he loved as though afraid to hurt him, hear it in the whispered apologies muffled behind his hands.

 

“Alejandro, it’s not your fault.” Kurogane was saying, an edge to his tone. “We didn’t even know what the aspects  _ were _ back then.”

 

“I know that!” Alejandro snapped back, and his partner flinched, making the blue paladin curl away further with another flash of guilt crossing his features. “But the thought of that whole awful mess being because of an aspect?  _ My _ aspect? That I could do something like that to another person?” He sounded as though he were going to be sick.

 

“You don’t know that your--”

 

“Yes I do!” He all but yelled, stopping the other conversations and drawing attention back to the pair of them as the older blue paladin drew in a harsh breath. “Malrento doesn’t think the aspects change from person to person. Two non-paladins with the same pure quintessence will have the same abilities. And since the personality trait doesn’t affect the lions at all, we have to assume that one will be the same for paladins too!” The darker-skinned man’s tone was high with unhappiness, words clipped and pained. “I could do that, Kurogane! I could take someone over and turn them against their friends and make them hurt them!”

 

“So what if you could?!” The former red paladin snarled back with surprising vehemence, making the other fall abruptly silent. “Just because you could doesn’t mean you  _ would _ !”

 

There was a strained silence, Alejandro’s jaw clenched tightly as he stared at the other with wide eyes.

 

Kurogane sighed, leaning forward to rest his forehead against Alejandro’s, who didn’t pull away this time. “And you wouldn’t. I know you, Sharpshooter, better than I know anyone in this whole god forsaken universe. You may share the colour of your quintessence with Haggar, but  _ you are not her _ . What she did, you would never even consider. This is proof enough, right here, that you feel guilty for something you never could have prevented.” Dark eyes shone as he lifted his head to gaze up at his partner. “I am not afraid of you, Alejandro. I trust you. I always will.”

 

There was a pregnant silence following that firm declaration before Alejandro hiccupped and teared up. Abruptly he wrapped his arms around Kurogane’s neck, mumbling rapid apologies into his partner’s ear. Lance hastily looked away from the emotional intimacy of the moment.

 

For a brief moment, he found himself making eye contact with Keith. Just that morning the red paladin had said he trusted him. But that was before all of this had happened, before the discovery that Lance’s aspects, his very quintessence, were going to be a constant reminder of how close the orphaned teen had come to losing, once again, the first person he had ever considered family. Kurogane may have trusted Alejandro despite this, but they had six years of fighting side by side and staying together through pain and loss that Keith and Lance did not. Swallowing hard, he held the other’s gaze for a long moment before Keith looked away, turning dark eyes toward Alejandro, who was being offered a tissue by Allura.

 

A sharp ache settled around his heart. Yeah. Lance wouldn’t trust himself either after that.

 

_________

 

Coran frowned, noting the flicker of hurt and sadness cross the young blue paladin’s face. Lance had always had an amazing propensity for self-doubt. While unfortunate and untrue, the lad’s feelings of guilt by association were hardly unexpected.

 

He’d been afraid of this. From the moment he’d stumbled across that memory of the overheard argument between the old paladins, he’d suspected that this particular aspect would be an unpleasant revelation. But he’d avoided bringing it up due to his inability to give any real information beyond what one of the blue aspects could potentially be used for, and out of a vain hope that the teen would stumble across it himself in a form that would be less distressing than Acalli’s usage.

 

Apparently, however, there wasn’t one. Mind control was mind control, however one might use it. And to say that the blue paladins were distressed by the thought of having such an ability at their disposal would be like saying that Gylackian flitzers were mildly averse to seeing kelwigs near their nests. Kurogane’s words were the absolute truth--Coran couldn’t for a second imagine either blue paladin using the ability the way Haggar had, or Acalli, for that matter--but getting the two to believe it was another matter entirely. Only repetition of reassurance and further displays of trust would get that into their heads, and that would take time.

 

In the meantime, they couldn’t afford another emotional blow like this one, or like the one that the black paladin had yet to open up about. The old advisor had seen the shadows hiding in the young man’s eyes, but Shiro was even more reluctant to burden his team with his emotions than Lance was. He could only hope that Matt would be able to get through to him and chase away whatever demons this battle had brought to the surface.

 

He tightened his hands on the edges of the tablet in his hands. Tonight, he would return to the holoprojection chamber. He needed to continue to search his memories. There had to be something there that would help them, if not to move past this more easily, then to prevent something like this from happening again. There was so much they didn’t know, and every piece of missing information or strategy based on flawed assumptions was a potentially deadly pitfall waiting to happen. They wouldn’t get this lucky twice.


	36. Chapter 36

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With the completion of chapter 39 we've officially passed the 200k mark for what I've written for this story, and just as I was getting ready to post this chapter, we crossed the 10k hits mark! Thank you guys so, so much for all your support! You guys are what keeps me writing!
> 
> With that being said, though, we've still got a long way to go. I've divided the story into five major arcs based on my outline. Arc 1: Time covers from the beginning of the story up to the end of the battle for Earth in chapter 32. Arc 2: Space is where we are now. After that is Arc 3: Matter, Arc 4: Energy (probably going to be the longest of the arcs?), and finally Arc 5: Weave, which will be the final battle and epilogue. I'm really not sure how this story got so out of hand, but I hope you'll all stick around for the ride.
> 
> It's also come to my attention that vldaspect is flagged as explicit on tumblr? I've tried to get that changed, but tumblr is a garbage website with garbage programming, and submitting a fix-it request through the support system got me an email that basically asked me why I wasn't contacting them from the email associated with the account, so I'm not holding my breath. There's nothing nsfw on the blog, I promise, but for those who aren't comfortable turning safe mode off just to view the reference lists of bayard merges and aspects, is there another platform people would recommend where I can put copies of that info up? (Also, I do have a discord if anyone wants to message me on there. I am always, always happy to scream with my readers about my stories. Just ask!)
> 
> Finally, there are no real warnings for this chapter, but Shiro is sad and there's some kissing near the end. Every time I write Shiro and Matt together they end up taking over the whole chapter with their feelings. I apologize for any inaccuracies in the constellation section, I couldn't find a list of the number of stars making up each constellation and had to make one myself so it may be wrong.
> 
> I think that's everything, but I'm sure my ADHD brain will inform me of something I forgot to mention as soon as I hit post. Enjoy chapter 36!

“Alright, everyone settle down. Let’s get this discussion back on track.” Allura ordered, directing a comforting smile at Kurogane and Alejandro, who nodded. The latter’s eyes still shone, but the former had wrapped a possessive arm around his partner’s waist, which seemed to settle the matter and made Matt smile at the firm support the pair had for each other. She shifted a bit, surveying the group. “I know this is worrisome news, since it means that not only is Haggar’s mind control still a threat, but Shiro is not the only one susceptible to it. However, the important thing to remember is that her control can, apparently, be broken.” Now her gaze focused entirely on Shiro, and Matt felt the older male stiffen beside him. “Shiro?”

 

The black paladin hesitated, then shook his head. “I don’t know exactly how I threw her off. That isn’t even what I was trying to do. I was just trying to resist her control, do something, anything, to keep her from sending me after Lance again.”

 

As Shiro recounted those few critical seconds, from Lance grabbing the black bayard--it turned out he’d thought it was his own, and had been just as surprised as Shiro when the shield activated--through to the moment when the black paladin had turned away to face down Haggar instead, Matt listened in silence with a small frown on his face. Tucked up against his boyfriend’s side as he was, the younger man could feel the coiled tension in the other’s muscle, see the tightness in his jaw as he spoke. Something was bothering Shiro immensely, and Matt couldn’t even begin to guess what was going through the other’s mind.

 

Pidge made an exasperated noise as Shiro finished speaking. “That answers exactly nothing and raises a million more questions. How he threw off the mind control, why he threw it off completely when the other timeline’s Shiro didn’t,” she cast an apologetic look at Kurogane as she ticked off points on her fingers. “How he activated the bayard without touching it, why throwing her off made his arm light up--”

 

“Although we did learn one thing.” Hunk commented, resting his elbows on his knees and looking across Lance at Pidge. “I remember you told me that the technicians freaked out when he powered up the old arm, like it shouldn’t have been able to do that. Now we know why. Like Alejandro said earlier, it never was the arm to begin with.” The yellow paladin looked over at Shiro and grinned. “Instead it was an aspect this whole--”

 

“It’s not an aspect.”

 

The sharpness of the black paladin’s tone as he cut Hunk off made Matt look up at his boyfriend in surprise. He wasn’t the only one, the rest of the group casting startled frowns in their direction as well. Shiro’s metal hand, still concealed by the glove of his paladin armor, was curled into a tight fist in his lap as he stared down at it.

 

Hunk raised an eyebrow, looking uncertain. “But…what else could it be?” He asked slowly.

 

The fist tightened until the glove fabric squeaked. “I don’t know. But it’s  _ not _ an aspect. The first time my arm lit up was months before I ever left the arena. Long before I came back to Earth and went to Arus and met Black.” Abruptly he twisted out from between Matt and Keith and stood, the motion so sudden that the other two toppled into each other with startled exclamations. “I need some air.”

 

Matt propped himself back up on his elbows just in time to see the door whoosh shut behind Shiro, his gut twisting with worry. He’d never known the other man to sound so harsh, especially to the younger paladins. Except during the bayard incident, he realized, remembering the way Shiro’s face had twisted with fear thinly disguised as anger as he raised his voice at Pidge in a desperate attempt to divert the discussion away from his fears and traumas. Looked like they had, without meaning to, prodded another of the half-healed wounds the black paladin carried close to his heart.

 

Keith was looking at him, anxiety and concern plain as he chewed on his lip. Matt nodded in silent agreement. “I’ll go talk to him.” He said quietly, his voice carrying through the stunned silence Shiro had left in the wake of his sudden departure. He pushed himself back to his feet, wincing as his left leg took his weight, and slipped out of the room.

 

“Now, where did he go…” Matt muttered to himself, looking right and left in the empty hallway. Where did Shiro usually go when he needed to ‘get some air’? Well, he’d start with the older man’s usual haunts and work from there.

 

The black paladin’s quarters were empty, as were the training deck, the sleepover lounge, the holodeck, and an isolated observation deck that Shiro had taken him to to look at the stars together. The ginger huffed in annoyance as he dropped down onto one of the couches at that last location, stretching his bad leg out in front of him. Shiro was nowhere to be found, and he couldn’t think where else to look. Massaging his knee, Matt looked out the window. The sun was nearly down, but he could see the bright lights surrounding the buildings of the Garrison ahead of them, and smaller lights where gawkers still crowded at the fence line, kept at bay by patrols of soldiers.

 

He froze, then smacked himself in the forehead. “Fucking hell. I am an _ idiot _ .”

 

As he stepped out of the main doors of the ship a few minutes later, a cool breeze whipped past him and he shivered. He’d forgotten how cold it could get here at night. Tugging his tunic tighter around his neck, he peered along the side of the ship until he spotted a small figure leaning against one of the Castle’s massive engines.

 

Shiro didn’t look up as Matt approached, staring off into the distance with his arms folded across his knees. Matt didn’t press him to talk. Instead he sat down beside him, the ship sheltering them from the wind, and took a deep breath of desert air, laughing under his breath. How long had it been since he’d heard someone use the phrase ‘getting some air’ in the literal sense? Probably before Kerberos. They’d had no freedom of movement in the mines, and the rest of the last two and a half years he’d been aboard spacecraft, with only the vacuum of space outside the ship. “Feels damn weird being outside without a spacesuit.” He muttered.

 

He’d intended the comment for himself, but Shiro gave a tired chuckle. “I suppose it would, for you. The Icebringers don’t seem to make planetfall that often.”

 

Matt shook his head in agreement. “Only for emergency repairs, usually. Even at Sh’ra H’ressnol they mostly load and offload via space elevator. More energy efficient, I’m told.”

 

“I suppose it would be, considering how big those ships are.”

 

They lapsed into silence again, Matt scooping up some sand and letting it fall through his fingers as he watched Shiro out of the corner of his eye. The coiled tension from the lounge was gone now, replaced by a sagging weariness and lines of sadness at the corners of his eyes that made Matt’s chest ache just to look at him. He couldn’t stand seeing him like this. Shifting closer, Matt leaned his head on Shiro’s shoulder. “Talk to me, Takashi.” He requested, voice gentle.

 

He felt the other draw in a long, shuddering breath, the muscular shoulder shifting under his ear. “Do I have to?”

 

“If you don’t want to, I won’t force you. But I can’t help if I don’t understand.” He placed a light kiss to the armor covering his boyfriend’s upper arm, a silent reassurance of his love regardless of what Shiro chose.

 

There was a long pause, the older man frowning uncertainly as he debated with himself. Finally, to Matt’s relief, he spoke. “It’s not an aspect.”

 

Matt gave a small nod. “So you said.” He commented, keeping his tone neutral. “Because you used it when you were still in the arena, right?” He had to admit, Shiro had a very good point with that. It was one thing to unlock aspects before they’d known what the aspects were, but at that point none of the paladins had even met their Lions yet. They  _ weren’t _ paladins then. So the aspects would have been out of reach of a desperate gladiator struggling to survive.

 

It was Shiro’s turn to nod as he gazed out across the sand. “I’ve been thinking about it ever since the fight today. It can’t be an aspect because I wasn’t a paladin yet. And it can’t have been the arm, because we got rid of that and apparently the ability is still there.” His gaze dropped to his arm, and a vibrant pink-white glow crawled over the surface for a moment before the paladin extinguished it, clenching his fist tightly with pained sigh.

 

“So what does that leave?” He’d be the first to admit he didn’t know that much about quintessence and how it worked, despite being surrounded by Alteans ever since the Icebringers had captured that prisoner transport he’d been on. He’d been a lot more focused on language, biology, and culture in order to fit in and make himself useful.

 

There was a strained silence, and when Shiro spoke again his voice echoed the quiet misery on his face. “Me. It leaves me.”

 

Matt fumbled mentally for a moment, trying to keep up with that leap of logic and understand what the black paladin meant by that. “...I don’t follow.” He admitted at last.

 

Shiro sighed, a heavy gust of air. “Not an aspect. Not the arm. As far as we can tell from what memories I have and Coran’s scans, they didn’t do anything else to me besides...seeing how I worked.” He nearly choked on the words, a shudder wracking his body at the memory, and Matt quickly wrapped a supportive arm around his boyfriend’s shoulders. The black paladin had to suck in a deep breath to steady himself before he continued. “Which means the only possible source is  _ me. _ Humans can’t manipulate quintessence as far as we know, and I’m sure there’d have been some sign of it in the historical records if anyone had. Hell, maybe there is and we just don’t know it. Ryou might know.” He gave a wry, humorless laugh. “I’ll have to ask him tomorrow. But then there’s the fact that no other Human has ever been this far from Earth, or gone through wormholes or hyperspace, or fought in the Galra arenas and been repaired by Druids before. Who knows what that could have done to me.”

 

“To us.” Matt pointed out. “Some of those apply to me, too, and I have yet to be able to turn any of my limbs into a glowstick. Dad never did either.” He added in a lower voice, fighting down the tightness in his throat that surfaced every time he thought of his father. “But I will concede that three is too small of a sample size to rule out any of those things as a cause.” He lifted his head to study the profile of Shiro’s face, the exhaustion and sadness that lined it and made it look older than his twenty-six years. “If it is you, then what’s wrong with that?” He asked, all too aware that they were treading the edges of hidden wounds now.

 

“...I killed a lot of people, Matt.” The words came slowly, unevenly, as if each one had to be dragged free of his chest before it could be spoken. “I don’t even know exactly how many. I don’t  _ remember _ .” Matt could hear the bitter self-recrimination, as though it were somehow Shiro’s own fault that the trauma of his hellish year in captivity had caused him to block out most of the memories of it, but Shiro was speaking again before he could say anything about it. “But I do remember there were a lot. At least one per fight, sometimes up to a dozen if they had me against initiates.”

 

Initiates. Initiates was what he and Shiro had been that day, when Shiro ripped Matt’s leg open with an alien sword to save his life before throwing himself at the then-champion of the arena, Myzax the Destroyer. None of them had been intended to survive that day. And this kind, gentle man had been forced to be on the other end of that fight countless times.

 

“And I remember,” Shiro continued, “that there were a lot more fights after I activated the arm than before. Testing. Seeing how well I could use it, how well their experiment worked. Or at least, that’s what I figured it was. Hell, maybe it still was, if they weren’t expecting me to be able to do that. I’d have been curious too.”

 

Another silence fell as the former gladiator collected his thoughts, broken only by faint banging of metal from the direction of the Icebringer ships and a distant howl of a coyote. Guilt twisted in Matt’s gut but he stayed silent, letting Shiro take his time finding the words he needed to bring his pain out in the open.

 

The black paladin shifted, sitting cross-legged with both hands resting in his lap as he stared down at his open palms. Concealed by gloves, there was no way to tell that one was flesh and blood and the other metal and wires. “So many deaths, Matt, because they were determined to push me until I couldn’t go any further, until I broke and died, and I could fight better and longer and win more easily with the arm than I could without it. I thought...because the arm was theirs, at least some of those deaths were on their hands instead of mine. Every life that I couldn’t have taken without it was their fault, as well as mine, because I refused to die and there were so many times that arm was the only reason I didn’t. I hated them for it even as it saved my life. But now…”

 

“...now it feels like all that blood is back on your hands, and yours alone.” Matt finished for him in a horrified whisper. A sick feeling curled in his gut at the realization. The other man had already carried so much guilt for the things he’d done in the arena, and now, faced with the discovery that his weapon of destruction hadn’t come from the cruelty of the Druids but from inside his own body, he seemed about to break under the weight of it. The younger man wished it had been an aspect after all, because then at least some of the burden would have shifted to the Black Lion instead of the Druids rather than all of it sitting squarely on Shiro’s trembling shoulders.

 

A single nod, a sharp jerk of Shiro’s head, and a convulsive swallow as his hands clenched into fists again, the left one shaking while the right one did not, were all it took before Matt couldn’t take it anymore. He twisted up onto his knees and threw his arms around Shiro, pulling him to his chest and ignoring the way the other stiffened at the unexpected touch.  He curled around the larger man in a protective embrace, his body burning with anger at the abuse his beloved had suffered. In that moment he would have ripped apart every soldier in the Empire who had played their part in dragging Shiro into the arena again and again, every Druid who had treated him like an animal to be poked and prodded, and even the Black Lion for taking him as her paladin and forcing him back into a life of fighting and pain when he should have finally been free to move on and put his torment behind him.

 

“None of it is on your hands, Takashi. None at all.” Matt whispered into the short, dark hair, fierce with anger on the other man’s behalf. “Every time those bastards put two living people in the arena together and forced one of them to kill the other, that’s on  _ them _ , not on you.” He felt Shiro shudder against him, fighting himself for control, and pressed onwards, determined to make sure the broken, battered man understood the truth of where the blame lay. “It doesn’t matter whether you used a weaponized prosthetic, an aspect, quintessence manipulation, or even your bare fists. You were just trying to survive. Not wanting to die is nothing to feel guilty for, it’s just part of being alive. Just like I didn’t want to die that day in arena, and Katie didn’t want to die in Trepan Kev. You didn’t want to die, and if killing or dying are the only choices you were given, no one should ever hold that against you. I don’t think anyone ever would.”

 

Another shudder, then Shiro heaved against his chest as a ragged sob tore itself from his throat. Matt pressed a gentle kiss to the top of his boyfriend’s head, rocking him gently. “You’re not a bad person for living, Takashi. You’re not at fault for doing what you had to do to survive. Those monsters in the Empire, they’re the ones with blood on their hands. Not you. Never you.” He felt Shiro shaking as he cried, and his own eyes burned in response as tears spilled down his cheeks. He hated this. Hated what Shiro had had to endure, hated the monsters who created such suffering for their own amusement. Hated the fact that Shiro was the kind of man who would always take blame onto himself, even as he loved him for it, and hated the fact that there was nothing he could do to take away his pain except whisper reassurances of his life’s worth and hold him as he wept.

 

They stayed like that for a long while, Matt murmuring protestations of Shiro’s innocence and hurling imprecations against the Empire alternately with each breath while the paladin’s tears dampened his shirt. By the time the older man’s sobs had subsided to uneven breathing the moon had risen over the desert, a thin crescent that didn’t cast much more light than the stars. The ginger kept his arms wrapped around his boyfriend, supporting and protecting him with everything he had. Eventually, though, Shiro pulled away and Matt let him go, settling back to sit shoulder to shoulder with him against the cold metal surface of the Castle’s engine in silent comfort. A blanket of heavy quiet settled over them both, still thick with sadness.

 

Gazing up at the sky, Matt wished from the bottom of his heart there was more he could do to heal the man he loved from the things he’d gone through. He felt so helpless sometimes, seeing Shiro hurting and being able to do so little to help.

 

Trying to distract himself, he scanned the stars, picking out the familiar patterns of the constellations. Sirius, bright as ever, and nearby, the red of Aldebaran in Taurus. With a practiced eye he traced the rest of that figure. “I spy with my little eye...a constellation with nineteen stars.” He muttered, smiling sadly at the memory of the game he’d first played with his father as a small child to learn the constellations.

 

“Taurus.”

 

Startled, Matt glanced over at Shiro, who looked back at him.

 

“Nineteen stars. That’s Taurus, right?” The back paladin repeated seriously, then looked up and frowned at the sky overhead. “That or Perseus. They’re the only ones with nineteen.”

 

Matt blinked, then laughed. “No, it was Taurus I was looking at, you’re right.” It only took him a moment to locate the other constellation as well, before he continued looking for another one. “I spy with my little eye, a constellation with five stars.” He stated, looking back up but continuing to watch Shiro out of the corner of his eye. He was pleased to see a slight quirk of the corner of the other man’s lips as he hummed to himself.

 

“Pretty sure it’s my turn, but...hmm…” He squinted upwards. “Auriga?”

 

“Nope.” The ginger popped the ‘p’ cheerfully and grinned.

 

The black paladin raised an eyebrow at him. “Cancer, then.” He stated firmly. “I spy with my little eye...a constellation with twenty-four stars.”

 

Matt rolled his eyes. “Too easy, Takashi, only Eridanus has that many. Go again, since I went twice.”

 

Shiro laughed. “Alright, you asked for it.” He turned away to study the sky thoughtfully, and Matt was relieved to see a soft smile on his face in place of the guilt and exhaustion that had lined it earlier. He knew the other was a long way from letting go of that pain, but at least for the moment it was no longer at the top of his mind. “I spy with my little eye...a constellation with four stars.”

 

“Aries.” Matt pointed off into the distance.

 

“Nope.”

 

“...Lynx?”

 

“Try again.”

 

Matt narrowed his eyes at his boyfriend. “Monoceros, then.”

 

“Not that one either.” Shiro looked far too pleased with himself, his smile verging on an outright smirk.

 

The younger male frowned and scanned the visible sky again, but none of the others constellations overhead had four stars. “Well it has to be one of those three, doesn’t it?”

 

Alright, he was definitely smirking now. “I was thinking of Crux, actually.”

 

“Crux? You ass!” Matt socked his giggling boyfriend in the shoulder. “You can’t even see Crux from the northern hemisphere!”

 

“Made it hard to guess, though, didn’t it?” Shiro laughed, rubbing his arm and nudging Matt with his elbow.

 

Rolling his eyes, the ginger mock-scowled and swatted at the offending limb. “Alright, if that’s the way you want to play it...I spy with my little eye, a constellation with ten stars!”

 

They played until they ran out of constellations to name and breath to guess with, laughter echoing across the open sand of the desert. Leaning his head on Shiro’s shoulder once more, Matt sighed in contentment. “Remember when we used to do this back at the Garrison?” He asked quietly. “Those were probably some of the happiest nights of my life.”

 

“Mine too.” Shiro agreed, wrapping a protective arm around his shoulders, and the smaller male curled into the warmth of the older man’s side. “Just you and me and the stars. I loved it.” The black paladin heaved a deep sigh, head tilting down to regard him with a thoughtful expression. “But this...this is even better, I think.”

 

“It is?” Matt asked, a trace of doubt creeping into his tone. Even after the emotional turmoil that had brought them out here in the first place, after the long, painful journey that they’d both taken between the last time they sat together on the roof of the Garrison and where they were now? How many times had Matt wished he could just erase the last two painful years for all of them? And Shiro somehow thought that despite all that, here and now was better than back then?

 

“Mhm.” His boyfriend was smiling softly at him, and the warmth of his gaze sent a blush crawling across Matt’s cheeks as it distracted him from his memories. “Because now I get to do this.” Shiro whispered, and leaned down to capture the other’s lips with his own.

 

Matt’s eyes fluttered closed as he leaned into the kiss, his arms coming up to wrap around the taller man’s neck and feeling Shiro’s encircle his waist in return. The paladin tasted of metal and sky as the ginger ran a tongue over soft, dry lips, and then he saw stars as the other deepened the kiss.

 

When they finally pulled apart Matt was flushed and panting and he had to rest his forehead against Shiro’s shoulder for a moment to collect himself. “W-Wow.” he breathed. “Okay. Point made.”

 

Shiro chuckled, laughter rumbling in his throat against Matt’s ear. “You have no idea how many times I’ve wanted to do that over the years. Everytime we went stargazing together it took everything I had not to just pin you down and kiss you senseless right there under the milky way.” His voice was low and husky and sent Matt’s heart stuttering in his chest.

 

“We missed out on a lot of opportunities for starlit make-outs, then, because I would have had absolutely no problem with that.” Matt laughed breathlessly. “Still don’t, in fact.”

 

A gentle touch to his chin lifted his head to find Shiro’s lips less than an inch from his own. “Well then, I guess I better start making up for lost time.” His boyfriend whispered, breath ghosting over Matt’s lips and making him shiver in a way that had nothing to do with the cool desert breeze. Shiro’s hands were firm on his cheek and back and sent warm tingles over his body.

 

“Definitely.” Matt murmured. He closed the gap, then, pressing his lips firmly to Shiro’s in an open-mouthed kiss. The black paladin was caught off-guard for a moment before returning the contact with a fierceness that made Matt gasp. His world seemed to narrow entirely down to fingers in his hair, shifting muscles under his hands, and a soft mouth fitting perfectly against his own like two matching pieces of a puzzle.

 

When they came up for air once more, Shiro’s forehead rested against his own . “I love you.” The black paladin’s gaze was filled with love and naked awe and adoration as he gazed at him, so much of it that Matt was almost overwhelmed, and his voice was thick with emotion. “I love you so much, Matthew. I don’t know what I could have possibly done to deserve you.”

 

“I love you too.” Matt murmured, stealing another chaste peck. “As long as there are stars in the sky and even when there aren’t, I’ll love you always.” He cupped Shiro’s cheek with one hand, running a thumb over one side of the scar on his face, then leaned up to kiss that as well. The mark reminded him of why they’d come out here in the first place.

 

“Takashi.” He whispered. “I want you to look at me and listen very carefully to what I have to say, alright?” He gazed up at smooth, pale skin and dark eyes that seemed to reflect the stars above them, like windows into a vast cosmos inside this beautiful man that he loved so much. Those miniature voids fixed on him, and he took a deep breath. “I know you think that... _ this _ ,” he tapped Shiro’s upper right arm with a meaningful look and heard the other’s man’s breath hitch in response. “Is something to be ashamed of, for the things you used it for. But it’s--no, don’t look away from me.” He poked the paladin’s nose when his gaze started to slide away. “Listen. It’s not, okay? Because that arm is the reason you  _ survived _ the arena. If you hadn’t, you wouldn’t be the Black Paladin now. How many lives have you saved wearing that armor, Takashi? Hell, how many lives did you save today alone? Billions, Takashi. All thanks to that arm, because it kept you alive in the arena long enough for you to escape. I’m not telling you not to grieve for those deaths.” He added, cupping Shiro’s cheeks with both hands and looking into eyes that shone with fresh tears. “If you didn’t, you wouldn’t be the man I love, and I wish from the bottom of my soul that you didn’t have to go through what you did. But I, for one, will never stop being grateful, regardless of where that ability came from, because without it, you wouldn’t be here with me now.”

 

“Take the good with the bad?” Shiro whispered, lips twisting in a sad smile.

 

Matt nodded, wiping tears away with a careful brush of his thumbs. “Exactly. Good like lives saved and planets protected and prisoners freed. Good like Keith and Ryou getting their brother back and Katie having hope again.” He leaned closer, brushing his lips over his boyfriend’s for just a moment, soft and gentle and loving. “Good like you and me back on Earth, kissing under the stars just like we always dreamed of doing.”

 

Another sharp inhalation of breath, those dark eyes wide and wet as they stared at him. Then he found himself wrapped in a bone-crushing hug that all but knocked the wind out of him. “You’re right.” A soft laugh in his ear. “Just like always.” Shiro pulled back, wiping his eyes on the back of his gloves with a smile, a genuine, happy smile this time, spreading across his face. “I’ll try to remember that.”

 

“Trying’s all I ask.” Matt smiled back, taking Shiro’s hand and lacing their fingers together as he settled back down against the side of the ship. “Come on. We’ve got the whole night ahead of us.”


	37. Chapter 37

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No warnings for this chapter.
> 
> Here it is, folks, the chapter you've all been screaming for ever since you figured out who Kovirak was! Enjoy!  
> (This also marks the end of the in-story day that started back in chapter 29.)

By the time Kovirak had managed to get her emotions under control and finish replacing everything she had scattered out of cupboards and drawers in her frantic search for any sign of her mate and cub’s presences, the sun was disappearing behind the horizon. It would be full dark by the time she got back to the castle-ship, but at least there was no chance of getting lost in the dark with the massive resistance ships in the distance towering over the smaller rock formations and blotting out the stars. The cool night air was enough to make her miss the afternoon heat, and she shivered as she made the return journey at a slower speed than the first. All the while she turned the problem over in her head of how she was going to go about finding her missing mate and cub.

 

There was no sign in the house of where they might have gone. She’d checked thoroughly while cleaning up the mess she’d made. Perhaps they’d relocated? But then why was Keith’s scent on those clothes? Kovirak growled and swiped at a rock pillar in frustration, leaving shallow scratches in the surface of the stone. She didn’t know enough about Human customs to even begin to guess at the explanation. And despite the fact that the entire planet had, in a rather dramatic fashion, been introduced to the existence of aliens today, it wasn’t as if she could just walk up to one and  _ ask _ .

 

As she left the last rock formations behind and began making her way past the rebel ships, her ears pricked up at the sound of voices on the wind. As she got closer she realized they were coming from up ahead, near the castle-ship, but it took several more minutes before she was close enough to make out the words and identify the language. English. God, but had it ever been a long time since she’d heard that harsh, awkward language. She laughed to herself, remembering how difficult it had been trying to fit her mouth around the sounds at first.

 

Coming around the curve of the tall white spacecraft, she stopped short at the sight of the Black Paladin, Shiro, far distant across the front of the ship where he sat with the medic from earlier. It was their voices she’d heard on the wind. 

 

Their voices speaking _ English. _

 

Realization struck like a bolt of lightning. The paladins were Human, or at least Shiro and Lance were, since she hadn’t taken the time to notice what the others were. She’d noted their species aboard the Weblum’s Breath but she hadn’t truly taken it in at the time, not with her focus on disabling the weapon and protecting her cub. Nevermind the question of how Humans, isolated, technologically primitive Humans, had ended up as Paladins to begin with, that wasn’t important at the moment. They were from this world, and would hopefully have some idea of how to go about finding Thomas and Keith. And them she could safely ask.

 

Kovirak had barely taken two steps toward the pair sitting by the engine when her ears laid back at the sound of Shiro’s voice raised in distress, and she backpedalled at once. This was not a discussion she should intrude on, no matter how impatient she was.

 

Turning away from the intimate conversation, she palmed the controls for the main airlock and was surprised and relieved when it opened to her. She must have been added to the system at some point--perhaps when she came aboard with the Blue Lion?--and it saved her the trouble of finding a service hatch to break open to get back inside. Kicking the sand off her boots and shaking it out of her fur, the Galra went in search of the Blue Paladin and the answers she needed.

 

The main deck, when she managed to find it again, was empty, but she could hear muffled voices down the corridor and followed them to a closed door, most likely a meeting room judging by the proximity to the bridge, but she couldn’t be sure given that the ship seemed to be constructed to wildly different standards than the Empire cruisers she was used to. Bright blue lights instead of combat-optimal red and purple, trim and panelling on the walls that seemed to serve no purpose beyond aesthetics, and even carpeting in many of the hallways. It felt closer to Thomas’s house than to the purely-functional war machines that were the Empire ships or the utilitarian warren of the Blade headquarters.

 

Caught up in her mental catalogue and comparison, she didn’t realize she’d entered the room--a lounge of sorts, it turned out, rather than a conference room--until she felt several sets of eyes staring at her and her ears flicked back in embarrassment. “Ah...sorry. Didn’t mean to interrupt.”

 

“Not at all.” One of the two non-Humans in the room, of a species Kovirak didn’t recognize, waved a hand in dismissal of her apologize and pushed some strands of curling silver hair back behind one pointed ear, regarding her with a welcoming smile. “We were just wrapping up. You’re the Blade who assisted on the Weblum’s Breath, correct? What can we do for you?”

 

“Ah, yes. My name is Kovirak.” The Galra cleared her throat hastily. “And I actually was hoping to speak to the Blue Paladin for a moment. I have a problem I was hoping he could assist me with.”

 

The boy in question blinked in surprise, exchanging uncertain glances with yellow paladin beside him before gesturing to himself with the hand that wasn’t in a sling. “Me? What do you need me for?”

 

“You’re Human, yes? From here on Earth? “

 

“Um, yeah? We all are?” Lance waved a hand around to indicate the others in the room. Following the movement, Kovirak realized that the yellow and green paladins on either side of him were indeed Human, as were two others dressed in casual clothing and the red paladin on the other couch. Relief surged through her. Surely one of them would be able to help her.

 

Nodding quickly in acknowledgement, she bared her teeth in an awkward approximation of a Human smile. “Excellent. I need help finding someone here on Earth, and I’m not sure how to go about doing that. I was hoping you could help.”

 

The yellow paladin sat up straighter. “Find someone? You mean, like, just someone who does a specific job, like a plumber or something, or are you looking for someone in particular?”

 

“Someone in particular.” Kovirak sighed, her smile falling a bit. “My mate and cub. Their home was near here, but it’s empty, and it seems as though neither has been there in some time.”

 

A stunned silence followed that piece of information, the Humans exchanging shocked glances. Waiting patiently, she couldn’t help noticing the surreptitious way they kept looking between her and the red paladin, as well as the older male beside him, whose resemblance to the younger suggested they might be siblings and who had been regarding her with an unreadable stare since she introduced herself. Maybe they were the ones who would be able to answer her question.

 

It was the green paladin who finally broke the silence, leaning forward to regard her intently and adjusting her glasses. “If you don’t mind me asking, what are their names?”

 

The intensity of the stares being directed her way was a bit off-putting, but she’d expected the question and didn’t hesitate. “My mate’s name is Thomas Kogane. My son is Keith Kogane.”

 

The reactions were immediate and loud, ranging from a strangled noise on the part of the red paladin to “Holy  _ quiznack! _ ” from Lance to a jubilant “I fucking  _ knew _ it!” by the green paladin, and Kovirak’s ears laid back in response to the noise. “I take it that means you know where they are.” She stated flatly, trying to suppress the way hope was making her heart pound in her chest.

 

The green paladin was grinning from ear to ear now as she nodded. “One of them, anyway. Kovirak,” she pointed across at the wide-eyed red paladin and the older man next to him, both still sitting frozen on their couch. “Red Paladin Keith Kogane, and time-traveller older Keith Kogane, now known as Kurogane.”

 

Kovirak froze, her brain stuttering on that revelation.

 

Keith? Her Keith, here? And two of him? A time-traveller?  _ What? _

 

Without stopping to think, she stepped closer to the pair, eyes closing and nostrils flaring as she took in their scents. There was no mistaking that unique scent that was both Human and Galra and yet neither at the same time, the same scent that she’d smelled only a few hours early on clothing tucked away in a duffle bag under a couch. And the scents of the two were nearly indistinguishable from each other, identical in a way that siblings would never have been.

 

Her eyes snapped open again and she stared at the pair, taking in the matching messy dark hair, pale skin, and deep violet eyes that had once stared up at her out of a much smaller face. “Keith?” She whispered, voice cracking.

 

The younger one jerked at the sound of her voice, a flicker of recognition crossing his expression. “M...Mom…?” He asked, hesitating as hope and fear warred on his face.

 

All she could do was nod, tears burning in the corner of her eyes and her heart racing as she stepped closer again, arms spread in silent invitation. “Yes. It’s me, Keith. Mama’s back.”

 

Before he could move, though, another voice sliced the air between them, cold and sharp. “Are you the one who betrayed the Blades of Marmora?”

 

Kovirak and Keith’s heads jerked as one to stare at the speaker. The older Keith--no, the Green Paladin said this one went by Kurogane--was glaring at her expectantly. “I...what?” She faltered, thrown by the unexpected question.

 

Kurogane scowled. “I said, are you the one who betrayed the Blades? Kolivan said someone named Lieutenant Kovirak was the one he suspected.”

 

The silence that had fallen over the room was thick enough to choke, every set of eyes on herself and her elder son as he held her gaze and stared her down, waiting for an answer. Guilt was a heavy ache in her chest. She knew what she’d done, but she’d never expected to be confronted about it so soon, so bluntly, and by her son of all people.

 

“Well?” He demanded as the silence stretched out. Keith, the younger one, was looking between them with a desperate expression, silently pleading with her to deny it. If Kurogane harboured similar hopes, they were hidden under a stoic mask.

 

But she could not, would not lie to them. “Yes.” She said quietly, her ears drooping. Behind her, someone inhaled sharply and someone else uttered a soft curse. “But I--”

 

“ _ Rohh’shka nhe’elwrr. _ ”

 

The unfamiliar words didn’t translate, but the tone, sharp as ice and twice as cold, stopped her in her tracks. Not one person spoke as Kurogane surged to his feet with the grace of an experienced warrior--she could see the mark of Kolivan’s training in the way he moved--and strode from the room without a single backward glance.

 

________

 

Keith was reeling.

 

In the span of a few minutes his entire world had been turned on its head. The Blade Galra who had helped stop the Weblum’s Breath was his  _ mother _ , who knew his name and his Dad’s, whose voice he remembered from faint, half-forgotten memories when she whispered his name. Kovirak was his mom, she was alive, she was  _ here _ .

 

She was also, apparently, a traitor.

 

It was all too much to take in. 

 

He knew he should be angry, like Kurogane was. In another timeline, her betrayal had caused the deaths of every single Blade of Marmora. But right now, all he could process was the fact that the mother he could barely remember had finally returned and was standing right in front of him. Keith drank in the sight of her, his gaze scanning over violet fur, large, almost cat-like ears, tilted yellow eyes currently staring after the older red paladin, and a wide, swept-back crest of long, dark hair almost exactly the same shade as his own. He’d been too young to remember her when she left, but looking at her, he could almost picture her standing next to his Dad in hazy recollections of his childhood home.

 

“So...you’re really my Mom?” He whispered into the awkward silence left in the wake of Kurogane’s abrupt departure.

 

Kovirak jumped, her gaze darting back to him from the closed door. After a moment she sighed, nodding. “Yes. I’d know your scent anywhere, Keith.” Her voice was pained, a far cry from the bewildered joy of a few minutes earlier. “It’s been a long time, but I never forgot it.”

 

He nodded slowly, fidgeting with the edges of his armor in lieu of not having his usual gloves on. “Sixteen years.” He agreed. What did you say to someone who’d been gone for that long?

 

“I know. I’m so sorry.” Her ears drooped with distress. “For what it’s worth, I didn’t want to leave.”

 

“Then why did you?” The question tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop it, just one of thousands that had rolled around in the back of his mind for as long as he could remember. Why did you leave? Where did you go?  _ Why didn’t you come back? _

 

He wasn’t sure if he was ready for the answer to the last one.

 

“To keep you safe.” Kovirak answered, too frank to be anything but the truth. Her eyes closed, sorting through memories. “I knew I wouldn’t be able to stay hidden forever. So when it seemed as though we were about to be discovered, I led the soldiers away, made it look like I took everything of importance with me, so when I escaped they wouldn’t think to look for you or your father.” Opening again, her yellow eyes bored into his, searching for what, Keith didn’t know. “It was the hardest thing I ever had to do. Only knowing you would be safe made it worth it.”

 

He nodded again, not trusting himself to speak again just yet. Her words sat like an ache in his chest and a burn behind his eyes.

 

“Everything I did was for your sake, Keith. Even betraying the Blade.”

 

His eyes widened and his head snapped up as he stared at her in undisguised shock. “How is that…”

 

Kovirak’s fists clenched at her side, the corner of her mouth lifting in a disgusted snarl. “Haggar discovered that I was a spy. I don’t know how. And rather than simply have me arrested or killed, she looked for leverage she could use against me to force me to be her tool. And she found it.”

 

“...Me.” He breathed. His gut twisted painfully.

 

“Yes. Not you specifically--if she’d known my cub was the Red Paladin, well…” She shook her head in despair, voice heavy with bitter regret. “But that I had left a cub behind on Earth, yes. She made a game out of forcing me to buy time for your life by giving up names and bases of my fellow spies. Any information that came to me from fellow Blades also had to be turned over to her, and all outgoing messages had to meet with her approval.”

 

“So that’s why we didn’t find out about the Weblum’s Breath until it was too late.” Keith and Kovirak both startled. They’d forgotten the others were still in the room, watching and listening. Alejandro’s brows were furrowed in thought where he sat perched on the arm of the couch. “You were the only one in a position to report it, but you couldn’t out of fear for Keith’s life.”

 

Kovirak blinked, glancing between Alejandro and Lance and seeming to come to the obvious conclusion before nodding. “That’s right. Until she made the mistake of threatening Earth anyway. With Keith in danger either way--” one ear flicked as she glanced at his armor, making him shift self-consciously--”or so I thought, anyway--I was finally free to act. I sent a warning to Kolivan, and I was on my way to sabotage the weapon when I met Lance and Shiro.”

 

Alejandro tilted his head to the side, a frown still painting his features. “When you sent the warning about the Weblum’s Breath, did you also tell him you’d endangered the lives of everyone else in the Blade by compromising their positions?”

 

Kovirak’s ears laid back at the accusing tone. “I did.” She stated flatly, staring him down. “Please don’t think I don’t wish there had been another option, that I don’t fear for the lives of my friends and colleagues. But I am a mother, and my cub will  _ always _ come first.”

 

Keith’s breath caught in his throat as her words sank in. He meant that much to her, that she would sacrifice others for him? He’d heard that parents were supposed to love their kids that much, that they would do anything for them, anything to keep them safe. But it had always seemed so unrealistic. It couldn’t possibly be true.

 

(At least, not for him.)

 

For a long moment no one moved, and yellow and blue eyes bored into each other. Then, abruptly, Alejandro nodded as though he’d decided something and rocked forward to his feet, posture going from hostile to indolent in an instant. “I’m gonna go talk to Kurogane.” He declared, shoving his hands into his pockets. “He’s probably had enough time to cool down now.”

 

As if his movement had been a signal, the others relaxed, tension flowing away like water. The other three paladins began to whisper quietly to each other, and Allura rose to her feet as well, gesturing for Coran to join her. “I should send a message to Kolivan, apprising him of the current situation here.” She shot a meaningful look at Kovirak before turning her attention to the chattering trio on the other couch. “You three should sleep. It’s been a long day, and I expect Lance and Hunk will want to be up early to go see their families.” She raised an eyebrow at the pouted denials, and waved her hand in a shooing motion. “Come on, everyone out, let’s leave Keith and his mother to get to know each other in peace.”

 

And just like that the two of them were alone in the room.

 

Keith ducked his head awkwardly and tugged at his gloves. He had so many questions that had piled up in his head over the years, so many things that he’d wanted to ask his mother if he ever saw her again, even more so once he’d met the Blades of Marmora and learned his true heritage, but now that he could he had no idea where to begin.

 

Footsteps padded across the floor toward him. “...May I sit?”

 

He nodded, watching Kovirak out of the corner of his eye as she settled onto the couch beside him. It was a relief to see that she seemed as nervous as he did, ears flicking this way and that as she adjusted her tunic. Silence stretched between them again.

 

“You’ve grown up well.” Kovirak said at last. “You were so small when I last saw you, and now you’re a strong young man, fighting to protect the universe. I have to admit, though, when I imagined seeing you again, this was...not  _ quite _ what I had been picturing.” She let out a soft huff of laughter.

 

Keith chuckled in spite of himself, although there wasn’t much humor in it. “Yeah, well, up until about a year ago, I wasn’t picturing anything like this either.” 

 

“Is that when you became a Paladin?” Her head tilted to the side curiously.

 

He bit his lip and shook his head. “No. It’s when we first met the Blades of Marmora and I found out I was part Galra.” He grimaced. That had not been a good time. He’d been scared, so scared, of how his team was going to react. Even Allura’s subtle hostility had been far better than he’d been expecting during that short flight back to the Castle of Lions from the headquarters of the Blades.

 

Glancing up, he realized Kovirak was gaping at him in naķed shock. Her mouth worked soundlessly for a moment before her ears pinned back in sudden anger, making him bristle in response. “Found out--Did your father not tell you  _ anything _ ?! He promised me when you came of age he would tell you all about--”

 

Fury swelled in his chest, burning hot. “He didn’t get the chance!” Keith cut her off, scowling in outrage. He had so few memories of his Dad, precious, happy ones all of them (right up until the end, anyway, but he tried not to think about that one), and he would _ not _ let her talk shit about the one good parent he’d ever had any more than he’d stood by and listened to Iverson badmouth Shiro after Kerberos. “He died when I was six years old!”

 

Kovirak jerked back, expression turning from anger to horror in an instant, but Keith kept going, not giving her a chance to respond as he lashed back at her, his angry defense of his father dragging out all the buried hurts associated with the man’s death and her absence and sending them tumbling out into the air between them. “I didn’t even know your  _ name. _ The only thing I knew about you was that you were big, strong, and beautiful, and that you  _ supposedly _ loved me very much! I spent twelve fucking years in foster care looking at that knife and praying that  _ some _ day you might come back for me and get me out of that hellhole of a system!” His hands were shaking now, clenched into fists in his lap. He squeezed his eyes shut, hard floors and thin blankets and cold windows parading behind his eyelids as memories threatened to overwhelm him. Suddenly there were arms around him and he tensed, bracing for an unknown threat, but then he registered a voice in his ear, a sorrowful whisper that seemed to echo up out of his dustiest, most faded recollections and cut right to the very core of his being.

 

“I’m sorry, Keith, I’m so sorry. If I’d known, I would have come, I swear, cover identity be  _ varakasht. _ I love you Keith, I do, and I’m so,  _ so _ sorry I wasn’t there when you needed me.”

 

_ “Mama has to go away for a while, baby. I’m sorry. But I love you so much, and I always will. No tears now, Keith-kitten. Mama will see you again someday, I promise. Be good for Daddy, okay? I love you.” _

 

A sob tore itself from his throat before he even realized it was building and he clutched at her arm, folding himself instinctively into an embrace that felt familiar and safe despite the sixteen years since he’d last experienced it. Kovirak curled around him, a protective shield between him and the world as tears soaked his cheeks and his chest ached with the force of his cries. A broad hand, so much larger than his, stroked his hair with infinite care and tucked his head against a soft, furred chest where he could feel a soothing rumble against his ear.

 

It felt good and yet strange at the same time, like something he didn’t even know he’d been missing until now. Even as his eyes burned and ragged cries muffled themselves in her fur a strange warmth settled over him, the same kind of warmth he’d felt when Pidge hugged him after she came out of the healing pod, or when Lance had let him cry on his shoulder a few days before that after the disastrous Trepan Kev mission, or when Shiro would hold him close as they fell asleep to remind him that he wasn’t alone. But it wasn’t quite the same. It was better.

 

Was this how Matt and Pidge had felt this afternoon, wrapped up in their mother’s arms?

 

He wasn’t the only one crying, he realized. Her breathing hitched, her hands were shaking where they clutched him close, and tears matted the fur below eyes screwed shut. Only Shiro had ever cried over him like this.

 

She must have sensed him looking at her, because her eyes slid open and one hand cupped his cheek, a careful thumb swiping the tears from his cheeks. “I’m sorry, Keith. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there.” She made a pained sound, leaning her forehead against his. “I love you, baby, and I let you down so badly. You should never have had to grow up alone like that.”

 

He looked away, unwilling to meet that sad yellow gaze. “You didn’t know.” keith didn't want to blame her; as much as he wanted to kick and scream and throw a tantrum, he knew it wasn’t her fault. And he was afraid to scare her away now that she had finally come back for him.

 

“But I should have. I’m your mother. I should never have left you.”

 

“You did it to keep me safe.” Colleen Holt had mentioned something about the Garrison knowing more about aliens than they’d admitted to the public. Had his mother’s efforts to keep him and his Dad safe been one of the things they’d been hiding?

 

Another pained, frustrated sound escaped her. “Still. Please, Keith-kitten, if there’s anything, any way I can even begin to make up for the fact that I wasn’t there for you for all those years…”

 

“Don’t leave me again.” The plea slipped out before he’d taken the time to think. Kurogane would probably be furious, after the way his older self had reacted to her admission about the Blades earlier he’d probably prefer if she disappeared again and never returned. But  _ Keith _ wanted his mother to stay, wanted to know what it was like to have a parent in his life who actually  _ cared _ . He swallowed hard, then repeated himself with more conviction. “Promise me you won’t leave again.” He needed her. Needed her to be there. Needed her to want to stay.

 

Relief filled him at the undisguised joy and adoration that spread across his mother’s face. “Of course, sweetheart.” He felt a light kiss being pressed to his forehead, gentle claws combing through his hair in an affectionate gesture. “I promise, I’ll be right by your side from now on. Nothing will take me away from you again.”

 

_________

 

Haggar didn’t bother to glance up at the sound of the door opening behind her, keeping her attention on the young Druid tending to her injury, green quintessence coating his hands. Only one person would dare to barge into the area of Central Command that was her personal domain in such a fashion.

 

“What. Happened.” Lotor’s voice was a snarl of fury, not surprising given that his prized weapon had been forced to retreat, damaged, without ever firing a shot.

 

“You miscalculated.” She responded coldly. “The fleet you allotted for the task was insufficient to keep Voltron and their allies from penetrating to the Weblum’s Breath, and the ship itself lacked the extra personnel to defend the almathium lattice when the paladins breached the hull.” Nevermind that the few soldiers available had been ordered away to let her deal with the blue and black paladins, and her own grievous error where the Champion was concerned. Lotor didn’t need to know those particular details. If he hadn’t underestimated the enemy it never would have mattered to begin with. “The almathium lattice can be repaired, but it will take several decarotations to mine enough of the mineral unless you intend to strip the ion cannons of active warships to restore the Weblum--”

 

“Forget the Weblum’s Breath. It’s of no use to me now.”

 

Haggar narrowed her eyes at the Prince. After all the resources that had been sunk into his pet project, he abandoned it after the first failure, a failure that was his own fault? “My Prince, the Weblum’s Breath is a formidable weapon and an asset to the Empire.”

 

“A weapon which has been defeated once before is not one that strikes fear into the hearts of our enemies.” Lotor’s disgust was evident as he wave a hand in dismissal of the idea, pacing the room and studying the various notes and projects scattered across the work surfaces. “Do with it what you will, I don’t care.”

 

She ground her teeth in annoyance. It was clear she’d been too hasty in thinking that Lotor might prove a suitable successor during Zarkon’s recovery. He may have been the best of the Emperor’s offspring, but that wasn’t saying much. He was far too focused on his own whims and his desire to create fear in those around him, rather than the expansion and maintenance of the Galra Empire. “Very well. Then the next actions of the Empire in stomping out this insurrection will be?”

 

Another dismissive gesture, increasing her irritation. “The regional commanders can continue as they have been in expanding our territory for now. As for dealing with Voltron…” He hummed thoughtfully. “Brute force was always my father’s preferred tactic, but it is obviously one that has failed to suffice thus far.” Her eyes narrowed at the insult to Lord Zarkon, but she held her tongue as he continued to speak. “Perhaps something more subtle is in order.” He paused in his pacing, raising an eyebrow at her. “Surely you have some ideas? Something that will strike terror into the hearts of all who oppose us.”

 

Something...subtle? In spite of her simmering fury, Haggar felt the ghost of a smile curving her lips. Insult though it may have been, Lotor wasn’t wrong about the Emperor’s preference for old-fashioned conquering. There were far more effective methods of achieving the same ends, ones less wasteful of resources and that would squash out any hope of resistance from those subjugated. None of her ideas in that vein had ever left the pages of her concept files, since Zarkon required her to devote her energies elsewhere in the crafting of weapons like the robeasts and the Komar, but given a little time she could easily breathe some life into them. “Yes, I believe I have just the thing.”

 

Lotor smirked, pleased. “Excellent. Consider that your priority project now.” He turned and headed for the door. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to check in with Commander Vetrak regarding the effort to eliminate all those pesky little spy friends of Kovirak’s. Hopefully  _ she _ will have some good news for me.”

 

Haggar growled under her breath at the Prince’s parting shot, then looked down at the Druid who was nearly finished closing her wound. “Railan, once you’re finished, you are to find Anilta, Celli, Loavan, and Narto. Inform them that we are accelerating the Emperor’s healing program according to schedule Lor-7.”

 

Railan’s hands stilled for a moment in shock. “Lor-7? Are you sure? The risks--”

  
“I know the risks!” She snarled, venting some of her bad mood, and was gratified to see the younger Druid flinch at her fury. “I’m the one who designed the program. Now do as you’re told, and do not question me again.” He gave a hasty nod, clearing away the disinfectants and bloody bandages, and made his escape from her workroom. Left alone once more, Haggar traced contemplative fingers over the thin line of red, half-healed flesh left by the limitations of the green aspects. Railan’s concerns were not unfounded, the Lor-7 program carried dangers for all involved, but it was proving to be a necessity. While his request would benefit the Empire in the long run, Lotor was getting above his station. That disrespectful whelp needed to be reminded of his place.  _ Below _ Emperor Zarkon.


	38. Chapter 38

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: brief panic attack in the first paragraph after the first italicized section, very brief semi-graphic character injury in the first italicized section, emotionally heavy content and references to past character death in the Coran POV section.
> 
> What's this? A new chapter only a week after the previous one? Inconceivable! Chapter 41 played nice with me, so enjoy. This chapter currently holds the record for most-heavily-edited-after-completion: I think it gained well over 500 words from the first draft, probably a bit more. Thanks once again to my beta/editor for all the help with this one!

_ The scene is lit by a garish mix of standard purple, red combat strobes, and the blinding pink of a weaponized prosthetic, multiple shadows in different shades playing over blood pools and limp forms. _

 

_ Shiro is grinning, sharp and cruel, his eyes glowing with blue quintessence as dark and cold as the ocean depths, and Keith is writhing under his hand, suit melting, flesh burning, tears streaking his cheeks as he gasps for air. The air fills with the smell of  burning plastic and scorched flesh, and nausea curls in his gut. _

 

_ His hands are shaking. He raises his bayard, but can’t bring himself to fire. Not at Shiro. _

 

_ The light changes suddenly, orange and crackling instead of purple and red. Shiro is standing over him, Keith lost to the shadows behind as he smirks down at him. He goes to lift his bayard again but it’s gone, and pain lances through him at the movement, his hand slick with blood. The metal hand, no longer glowing, is curling into a fist, drawing back for a punishing blow. He’s rooted to the spot by pain and fear, unable to do anything but stare up at the warped face of his friend and leader as his body seizes up in absolute terror. He’s going to die. He’s goingtodiehe’sgoingtodiehe’sgoingtodie-- _

 

_ Haggar’s voice, cold and mocking as she laughs: “Finish him.” _

 

_ The fist flies toward him. _

 

Lance surged upright, gasping for air and clutching at his chest with a shaking hand as his pounding heart felt like it was going to burst right out of his ribcage. Sweat slicked his forehead as he tried to suck in a breath, then another, fighting against lungs still locked up with panic. It took several more breaths before he felt like air was actually reaching his lungs, and even longer before he was able to bury his face in his knees, hugging them to his chest with trembling arms. Blue’s soft purring reached him through the buzzing in his ears, calming him further, and he sent a tired wave of gratitude toward his Lion that prompted a warm surge of affection and protectiveness in response.

 

Lifting his head, he glanced toward the window and realized with a groan that it was still dark out. It couldn’t have been more than a few hour since he, Pidge, and Hunk had made their way to the lounge and collapsed into sleep almost as soon as their heads hit the pillows. No wonder no one had woken up in response to his latest nightmare. Not that he could blame them. Yesterday had been long and exhausting for everyone, not just him.

 

Movement in the shadows of the room nearly made him jump out of his skin, setting his heart racing again before the figure came closer and he was able to recognize the scarred features of Alejandro, looking every bit as exhausted as he felt. Any other time Lance would have made some dramatic comment about scaring the life out of him, but right now all he could do was nod in greeting as his older counterpart crouched down beside him.

 

“I’m gonna go get some water.” Barely above a whisper, Alejandro’s voice was hoarse and scratchy. “Want to come with me?”

 

It took Lance a moment to figure out why the other looked so shaken before he remembered what Pidge had explained the night before. Mental link. Dream sharing. They’d both experienced that nightmare, a terrifying blend of Alejandro’s years-old memories and Lance’s newest trauma from just hours ago. Fresh anxiety churned in his gut, and he nodded. He needed something to drink, and the two of them needed to talk.

 

Struggling to his feet and gingerly testing his twisted ankle--sore, but not so bad he couldn’t walk on it thanks to some Altean painkillers--he followed the other out into the hallway, heading for the kitchen in silence. The only sound in the dimly-lit corridors was the uneven padding of Lance’s bare feet and the metallic clicking of Alejandro’s prosthetics against the floor. How long had it taken to get used to that sound, he wondered? It must be a constant reminder of everything the older paladin had been through. Not to mention all the other scars the pair carried. Could Kurogane even hear with his scarred-over ear? Or was he just good at compensating?

 

Lost in thought, he almost bumped into the chair the other pulled out for him, reddening as he dropped into it. Alejandro chuckled as he grabbed a couple water packs from the fridge and passed him one before settling on the other side of the table and making a pleased humming noise as he took a long drink.

 

Lance followed suit and sighed in relief as the cool liquid soothed a throat that he hadn’t realized was so dry it was almost painful. For a few minutes the crinkle of foil packs and the swallowing of water were the only sounds in the room. After a while, though, he set his pack down in front of him. “So...uh…” He fidgeted awkwardly, looking down at the table and picking at the bandages on his hand. How did you start a conversation about something like this? “We should, uh, probably talk?”

 

At least Alejandro seemed as uncomfortable as he did, playing with his straw and avoiding his gaze. “I...yeah.” He sighed. “I guess I should start by apologizing. I didn’t realize you were getting hit by my nightmares. Nobody needs to see that shit. I mean, the whole point of coming back here was so you  _ wouldn’t _ \--”

 

“It’s okay.” Lance cut off the bitter rambling, his heart squeezing with sadness at the guilty look on the other’s face. “It’s not your fault. I mean, it’s not like you knew this would happen or anything, and you can’t exactly control it, either. So you don’t need to apologize for that, okay?”

 

Alejandro stared at him for a moment before his shoulders slumped a bit and he nodded, a single, sharp jerk of a motion. “Right. Okay.” He ran nervous fingers through his hair and took a long drink of water. “So. Mind link. That’s...really something.”

 

“Yeah. Hunk said you were able to get inside my head during the battle. See what was happening.” Just thinking about it made him feel twisted up with discomfort. The thought of someone, even an older version of  _ himself _ , being able to reach into his mind and see all his thoughts and fears and the insecurities he tried so hard to hide even from himself...it made him feel naked and exposed under the other’s tired gaze, and he let go of his water pouch to wrap his arms around himself.

 

His posture must have given away his thoughts, though, because Alejandro sighed. “Lance, I know what you’re--” Lance flinched, and Alejandro winced. “Sorry, that was a bad choice of words. Let me try that again. I can  _ guess _ what you’re thinking, because I remember the things that used to go through my head when I was younger. And you don’t need to worry because I can’t read your thoughts. Not now, and not earlier either.”

 

Lance’s head snapped up in shock. “But Hunk said--”

 

“I saw through your  _ eyes _ , Lance, and heard through your ears. I wasn’t reading your mind. I knew you were in pain because I could feel it, but I couldn’t even tell exactly what was injured because you weren’t looking at them.” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “The closest thing I got to an actual thought was knowing your bayard was missing, and I don’t even know how I got that much. Honestly, I learned more about what you were thinking during that mess from the dream we shared tonight than I did from connecting to your mind during the fight.”

 

“Oh.” Cheeks warming, Lance uncurled. That made sense. The information he’d gotten from diving into his older self’s memories had also been limited to sight and sound and touch aside from the unconscious knowledge of how long the fight had been going on. And doing that had taken deliberate effort on his part, so reaching his own mind had probably been just as difficult for the other. Plus, if one of them was reading the other’s mind on an easy basis they  _ definitely _ would have noticed by now. He scrubbed his hand over his face to hide his embarrassment. That dream had made him all worked up and paranoid. “That’s...okay. So no mind reading. Good.”

 

The older chuckled and took another drink. “Yeah. No offense, but I don’t want you reading my thoughts any more than you want me reading yours. Some things are better kept private, right? The dreams are bad enough.” He cracked a crooked smile and gave him a cheeky wink.

 

Lance choked at the oblique reminder, face burning scarlet. He cleared his throat and changed the subject. “Anyway! You looking forward to going home today?” He asked, leaning his elbows on the table.

 

The smile was wiped away as quickly as it had appeared, the young man on the other side of the table falling silent and leaning back in his chair. He didn’t answer, staring through the tabletop instead as his fingers tightened around his empty water pack. When Alejandro did speak, his voice was quiet. “I wasn’t planning on going.”

 

“ _ What. _ ” No way he’d heard that right.

 

“I said,” Alejandro lifted his head, gazing at him steadily. “I wasn’t planning on going.”

 

“Why the quiznack not?!” Lance demanded, aghast. Yeah, the time traveller thing was going to be hard to explain, and he  _ really _ wasn’t sure how his mom was going to react to it on top of everything else, but it wasn’t going to be so bad that they should avoid the topic entirely. “They’re your family!”

 

Alejandro huffed out a soft breath, a sad smile curling the corners of his lips. “No, Lance, they’re  _ yours. _ My family’s been dead for almost four and a half years.”

 

_ Oh. _

 

That made...sense, in a painful sort of way. Alejandro had spent the last four years mourning his family, the ones who had died when the Weblum's Breath fired in the other, disastrous timeline. But if anyone deserved to come home, to see their family again, it was these two battered time-travellers. He couldn't do anything for Kurogane--the unexpected reunion with his mother the night before had been anything but happy and he wasn't sure it was his place to ask what had been talked about after Alejandro had left to go find his partner--but hell if he was going to let someone, especially not an older version of himself, be deprived of the chance to hug their mami again. He straightened, giving the other a determined scowl. "No offense, Alejandro, but that's--and our mother can never, ever know I was using this kind of language-- _ bullshit. _ "

 

"I--what?" Alejandro's eyebrows had shot up nearly to his hairline in shock.

 

"They're still your family, asere. Maybe they're not the same versions of them who died back in your time, but they're your family all the same. Veradero Beach is still your home. So what if it took you an extra seven years to get back? Mami will be happy to see you all the same. Just you wait. She's gonna hug us, cry, and then smack us both for making her worry. And at the end of the day she'll have nine kids instead of eight. End of story."

 

There was a stunned silence, Lance glaring fiercely at his battered, lonely future self. Alejandro was frozen in place. Then, abruptly, he swallowed hard, eyes sparkling wetly. "Are you sure?" His voice broke, and Lance realized with sudden, overwhelming certainty that there was more to it than had already been said. He knew what the other was about to say before he said it. "They're...I can't...I don't want to take your family from you, Lance."

 

"Our family, Alejandro." He offered the other a sad smile. "Mine and yours both. You can't take away what we already share."

 

Alejandro gave a wet-sounding laugh. "Kurogane's always said I'm too kind-hearted to be real. I don't know why I didn't see this coming." He rubbed at his eyes. "Fine. Okay. I'll come with you."

 

Lance snorted and relaxed. "Kurogane too. Mami will kill you if she finds out you found your 'one' and you didn't bring him home to meet the family." And it would raise a lot of uncomfortable questions about what was going on between Lance and Keith that he  _ really _ didn't want to answer, but quiznack it, he could deal if it meant his two new older brothers got to have the homecoming they never got.

 

"Oh geez. He's gonna be terrified. But if it's between that or staying here and having to be around Kovirak..." He grimaced.

 

After a moment's hesitation, curiosity won out against Lance's better judgement. "He really hates her that much?" He asked, taking another drink of water.

 

Alejandro sighed, running a thumb up and down his straw. "Keith hasn't spent much time with the Blade yet at this point, has he?"

 

Frowning at the seeming non sequitur, Lance shook his head. "Not really, no. I mean, he likes to train with them when they're around, and I think he watches them to learn a bit more about how Galra act, but...I dunno. Does--did, sorry, did Kurogane spend a lot of time with them?"

 

"Yeah." The word was almost a sigh. "Training sessions, like you said, but over time we started coordinating more missions with them. Some of them were around pretty frequently. If the five of us plus Allura were brothers and sisters, and Coran was something like a stepdad, then some of the Blades were practically cousins, aunts, uncles, and in Kolivan's case a crotchety grandfather. To all of us, but especially to Keith. The Blades are family to each other, and when he awoke his he became one of them."

 

"So when they died he was losing family all over again." Lance felt sick at the thought. He knew Keith was an orphan. He'd already lost his family once. It had probably taken Shiro a long time to get younger teen to open up once they met, just like it had taken a long time for Keith to start letting his guard down around the rest of the team. Little by little Keith had been building himself a new family, letting himself get attached to people, and would have continued to do so...only to have nearly all of them ripped away from him. "No wonder he's so angry at her."

 

Alejandro hummed in agreement, taking a long drink. "Don't get me wrong, I'm glad Keith found his mom. I'm glad they're reunited. But even with the reasons she gave, I'm pissed. She hurt him, intentional or not."

 

"That's fair. Honestly, I'm a bit angry myself. Less than I was before she explained herself, since she was stuck between a rock and a hard place trying to protect her kid, but still. The Blades are our  _ friends _ . Wasn’t there any other options?"

 

"Exactly." He sighed. "Unfortunately it's not our place to tell her to go to hell. We should leave it up to the three of them to sort themselves out, at least until we can take her back to the Blade headquarters. She does need to answer to Kolivan for what she did."

 

Lance winced, imagining the grim-faced Marmora leader's anger over the betrayal. "Man, that almost makes me feel sorry for her." He yawned, jaw cracking. "Almost."

 

Alejandro chuckled. "We should try to get a little more sleep. God knows there won't be any opportunity to nap later. Knowing Mami she'll have the entire family there waiting for us when we land."

 

She would, at that. Every single aunt, uncle, and cousin crammed under the roof of Rosa and Alistair McClain-Martinez, just like they did at Christmas. Lance felt a warm happiness blooming in his chest just thinking about it. God, he'd missed them all so much. "I can't wait." He pushed himself to his feet with a soft smile on his face.

 

"Me either." Alejandro admitted, grabbing Lance's empty drink pack and chucking them both in the garbage disposal. "C'mon. Back to bed."

 

The walk back was made in comfortable silence, so unlike the uncomfortable tension when they'd gone the other way. They were almost back at the lounge, Pidge's soft snores just faintly audible, when Lance had an idea. He grabbed Alejandro's arm. "Wait here a minute, okay?" He dashed off as fast as his ankle would let him before the started man could reply.

 

His jacket was right where he had left it, hanging on the back of the door of his room from when he'd been hurrying to change into his armor before today's battle. Pulling it off the hook, though, he felt a momentary surge of reluctance. Alejandro--the original Alejandro, the one back on Earth who had inspired the nickname Lance had given his time-travelling counterpart and whose name he had, in the other timeline, chosen to represent the family he'd lost--had passed it on to him just before he left for the Garrison.

 

_ "Wear it to remind you that no matter what happens, Alonza, you are part of this family and we love you, okay?" _ He'd said, pressing the soft, well-worn material into Lance's hands.  _ "From one brother to another." _

 

All the more fitting, then, that it would now go to his brother's namesake. Clutching the jacket to his chest with renewed certainty, he limped back down the hall and pushed it into the time-travelling Alejandro's hands. "Here. I want you to have this."

 

His older counterpart stared in shock first at the jacket, then at Lance. "Lance, this is...I can't..."

 

"From one brother to another. You're part of this family." Lance smiled warmly at him. "And you always will be."

 

Alejandro fell silent, then clutched the jacket to his chest as he wiped at his eyes with one shaking hand. "Thank you..." His voice broke on the whisper.

 

Any regrets Lance might have had about giving up the jacket were washed away by that teary, broken smile, and the grin he gave in return was easy and honest. Alejandro may have lost his family once, but Lance would see to it that he got to use his second chance. "Anytime."

 

_________

 

_ The Black Lion hung silently in the darkness, a vast hulking shadow blotting out the distant galaxies that made up the backdrop of the interstellar void. Only a small part of the front was dimly lit, paint reflecting the glow of the small, enclosed platform where a dozen tiny figures gathered around a single, central individual. _

 

_ "I don't like this, Coran." Alfor's arms were folded, his brow furrowed in a deep frown as he watched the scene through the viewscreen of the small cargo ship that had brought them out here, hovering a safe distance back to avoid interference. "I still feel like we shouldn't have let her do this one." _

 

_ Coran sighed, putting an hand on Alfor's arm. "I know, but she is the amvel nayeta, and she insisted that as she was the one to do the others, it had to be her. So did Acalli, for that matter, and you and I both know those two can't agree on  _ anything _." _

 

_ "Still, I have a bad feeling--" Alfor huffed, but fell silent. It was starting. The figures on the platform had stretched their arms outwards, toward the vacuum of space on the other side of the thin transparent bubble that protected them. Quintessence, invisible to the naked eye but all too obviously present to the senses of the Alteans, began to gather in thick ribbons around the platform. Pure raw black quintessence, drawn from the void itself out here where space was at its emptiest. _

 

_ The sheer quantity being collected was incredible, more than Coran had ever observed in one place. Even the massive Yellow Lion had required less than this when the same ritual had been conducted nearly a month earlier on the rocky, barren surface of Kalshevar VI. _

 

_ The central figure now raised its arms, drawing the ribbons of energy together above the platform. Then the quintessence shot forward, wrapping around the Black Lion in myriad threads, braiding and twisting and slipping under the metal hull of the great machine. It took long doboshes for it all to be absorbed, the single individual at the centre of the platform guiding it deep into the Lion's core. As the thick ribbons were used up, the outer participants dropped their arms one at a time. _

 

_ The last thread vanished. Aquamarine lights flickered into being. Great golden eyes flashed to life. And the Black Lion threw back her head and roared. _

 

_ "She did it." Coran murmured, awestruck by the sheer power that he knew would have been required to control so much quintessence. "She--no!" His eyes widened in horror as he saw the central figure crumple to the ground, the others clustering around in obvious dismay. _

 

_ "Linnata!" Alfor was already moving, sprinting toward the control console of the ship, kicking the engines into high gear to move them toward the platform, and Coran was headed for the cargo bay to bring them aboard as fast as possible-- _

 

Coran slammed a hand down on the stop button on the console, emotions too thick in his throat for speaking. The memory playback vanished and he leaned on the console for support, eyes screwed shut as he tried to get the shaking of his hands under control. That had been one of the most terrifying days of his life, and it was no easier to relive now, even knowing that Linnata had survived the incredible strain crafting the Black Lion's core had placed on her.

 

He still remembered how utterly, terrifyingly fragile she had felt in his arms during the frantic, mercifully short flight back to Altea, the long, achingly slow recovery during which she had been so weak and tired. The way she had never truly returned to her former strength after the effort involved in breathing life into the Lions and linking them together.

 

If he had known before the project was begun what he knew now…

 

Coran shook his head wearily. As powerful as the Lions were, he doubted a leap of ten thousand cycles and change was within even their abilities with the metaphysical aspects. And even if it was, he could never ask something like that of Lance or Alejandro. Best not to dwell on what could never be altered. There was work to be done.

 

Storing the half-watched memory--the paladins might be interested in witnessing the birth of the Lions, even if he could not bear to watch it himself--he took a deep breath to steady himself and cleared his throat. “Computer, next memory, please.”

 

The metal walls of the holoprojection room blurred and shifted, replaced with projections of ones enclosing a much larger space. A hangar, standing cavernous and empty save for the Yellow Lion and two small figures. Coran and Alfor, again, older and wearier with eyes red from grief.

 

_ “You want me to go where?!” Coran demanded in disbelief. Had his husband gone mad? _

 

_ “Arus.” Alfor repeated, tone heavy. “You’re going to take the Castle, with Allura and the Black Lion aboard, to Arus.” _

 

_ “Arus. Where we’ll be completely unprotected. What am I supposed to do if the Galran forces find us there? The particle barrier won’t stand up to a bombardment!” _

 

_ “They won’t find you there.” The Altean king sounded surprisingly certain of that fact. “And either way, you’ll be in cryosleep.” _

 

_ Coran wasn’t reassured, despite the other’s confidence. “Cryosleep? Why? For how long?” _

 

_ “I can’t tell you that. I’ll program it before you leave.” _

 

_ “You can’t tell me much about this scheme of yours, can you?” The frustration in the advisor’s tone was obvious. After the constant chaos and terror of the last few decarotations, the added uncertainty was more than he could take. _

 

_ “Coran…” Alfor sighed wearily, rubbing at his eyes. In that moment, he seemed to have aged decacycles, shoulders sagging under the weight of recent tragedy. “Please, love. Believe me when I say I wish I didn’t have to ask this of you. That I wish we could take our daughter and flee, find some hidden corner of the universe where Zarkon will never find us and live out our days in peace. But I cannot. I have a duty as a king and a paladin to protect. I swear, Coran, if I could tell you the details of the plan I would in an instant but...” _

 

_ A moment’s hesitation, then: “Alright.” _

 

_ Alfor faltered, thrown by the unexpected acquiescence as he stared at his husband in shock. “Alright?” _

 

_ A lopsided half-smile spread across Coran’s face and he stepped forward to wrap his arms around the other man’s neck. They’d lost too much already for him to want this conflict to drag on. “If you can’t tell me, you can’t tell me. But I trust you, just as I always have. I’ll take the Castle to Arus and then activate the cryosleep program. _

 

_ The king’s eyes shone with unshed tears as he hugged the other tightly, burying his face in his shoulder. “Thank you, my love. Thank you.” _

 

The memory segment ended, leaving Coran standing in the holoprojection chamber once more with his own eyes gleaming and wet trails down his cheeks. Had Alfor known what would happen when he asked that of Coran? That his remaining partner and only child would be cast ten thousand cycles into the future, their home gone and the universe dominated by a Zarkon gone mad with power? He surely couldn’t have expected it would be that long before one of the other Lions returned and deactivated the cryosleep program.

 

“Computer, store segment. Deactivate program Coran Review 1. Deactivate chamber.” He choked out, pressing the heel of his hand over his eyes in an attempt to stem the flow of tears. He couldn’t relive anymore of his past tonight, not with those two scenes so fresh in his mind and the memory of his partners so heavy in his heart. Alfor. Linnata. Stars, he missed them so much. All the cycles since Linnata’s death had done nothing to lessen the deep ache, the hole in his heart left by her absence, and Alfor’s loss was still a fresh wound, burning now from the memory of one of their last conversations. The last thing his husband had ever asked of him. For him to take Allura and Black to Arus and keep them safe. He had done that, yes, but he hadn’t expected the price would be so steep.

 

He stood by the console for a long time, body sagging with weary loneliness until his tears ran dry and his breathing stopped shuddering in his chest. As agonizing as the loss was, he had to keep moving forward. Had to keep fighting, keep doing everything he could to bring down someone his husband had once considered a friend and who had repaid that friendship in blood and destruction and death.

 

There was still work to be done, memories to be searched for information that might be the key to toppling a trio of tyrants, two of whom had once been allies. As much as it hurt seeing the faces of those he’d lost, it had to happen. Later today, maybe, with the Humans busy with their families and the Icebringers occupied by repairs. Allura could monitor the healing pods for a few hours. But not right now. Not after that.

 

The doors of the chamber whirred shut behind him as he slipped out into the hallway, where dim strips of aqua along the edges of the floor guided his steps, the main lights darkened for the ship’s night cycle. It seemed it was later than he’d realized--likely the rest of the Castle’s inhabitants and visitors were sound asleep in in their beds. All the better, since it meant there was no one to see him with red eyes and still-damp cheeks. He’d take some time to go and run one last check of the Castle’s systems before bed to make sure no damage from the battle was late in making itself known and to try to settle his emotions enough to sleep.

 

To his surprise, however, low-level lighting spilled out through the open door of the bridge. Someone was already there. Stepping up to the threshold and peering around the edge of the frame, Coran’s breath caught in his throat. Allura stood by the front window, gazing out over the dark desert. Soft blue lights cast a gentle glow over face and threw darker indigo shadows over her hair that for a moment turned her into the spitting image of her long-dead mother.

 

His involuntary inhalation must have carried, because she turned suddenly, eyes flashing and body tensing for a fight, and the spell was abruptly broken. Once she caught sight of him she subsided with a sigh and turned back to the window. “Coran. You startled me.”

 

“My apologies. I wasn’t expecting anyone to be awake right now.” Discreetly drying his cheeks on his sleeve and trusting the darkness to hide the redness of his eyes, he moved across the deck to stand beside her, looking out over the dark sand and rock, shadowy spires against the broad, starry expanse of the sky. “Trouble sleeping?”

 

Allura bit her lip, then exhaled and nodded. “A bit. Just...a lot on my mind, I suppose.”

 

“Care to talk about it, Princess?” He asked, weighting the word, as much a fond endearment as a formal title, with as much affection and concern as he could muster. It was easier to push his own sadness aside, knowing that his daughter needed his support right now. “You know I’m always here for you.”

 

“I know.” She gave him a small smile in return. In the distance a pair of small lights from some sort of vehicle cut the darkness and they both watched in silence as the car drove down the highway past the Garrison buildings before turning off at the fenceline where more pinpricks of light marked the campfires and lanterns of the Humans who had come to stare at the alien spaceships. “I was just thinking that they have no idea what they’re getting into.” Allura’s voice was sad and worried, with just a trace of bitterness.

 

Coran tilted his head in agreement. “The Humans, you mean. Is this about what Ryou said earlier?”

 

Allura nodded, wrapping her arms around herself. “Yes.Technologically, they’re downright primitive. The mission where Shiro and Matthew and Commander Holt were discovered and captured was their species’ very first manned attempt to even reach the edge of their home system. Their habitats on the surface of the moon are still scientific ventures rather than true colonies. They have yet to even  _ conceive _ of technology that was considered backwards and archaic ten thousand cycles ago. And yet…” Her gaze was distant. “And yet they pledged themselves to the cause without hesitation. They dedicated themselves unflinchingly to joining the fight, trusting us to lead them.” She bit her lip. When she spoke again it was an anxious whisper. “They trust  _ me _ to lead them.”

 

“Oh Allura, little juniberry flower…” Coran breathed, reaching over and pulling her into his arms. She folded into the embrace without hesitation, trembling hands fisting in the front of his shirt. How long had these insecurities been plaguing her, buried and pushed aside for the sake of a brave face except for private moments like these? Stars, she was so young, too young to bear the weight of so much loss and so many looking to her for guidance and leadership in a vast, deadly war. Guilt sat heavy in his chest that he hadn’t noticed her fears sooner under her seemingly-irrepressible confidence, and for the fact that there was so little he could do to ease her burden.

 

“I don’t know if I can, Coran.” Allura whispered into his chest. “I don’t know how to lead, not really. I still had so much to learn before Alfor would have considered me ready for even a fraction of the things I’ve done. I’ve been making it up as I go along. We’ve been lucky so far, but if I make even one mistake…” She shuddered. “I’m not father, Coran. I don’t know what I’m doing.”

 

He was not the only one with memories of their family weighing heavy on their mind tonight. “Princess. Sweetheart. Look at me.” Coran took her gently by the shoulders, holding her away from him a little so he could look her in the face. She sniffed and wiped her eyes hastily before looking at him expectantly. “No. You’re not Alfor. And no one is expecting you to be him. Alright?”

 

“But the war--”

 

“Is not the same as it was when your father struggled to protect Altea from Galran forces. In fact, there’s never been a war on this scale in all the recorded history I ever heard. Alfor may have had more experience in diplomacy and tactics, but I can say without a doubt that he would have been every bit as out of his depth as you are.”

 

He regarded her steadily by the dim light of the stars. Despite the shine of her eyes and the way she was biting her lip to keep it from quivering, Allura was still trying so hard to be strong. She was a blending of the best of both her other parents, both in appearance and in body and mind--Alfor’s determination and willingness to sacrifice for the sake of others, Linnata’s quiet strength and sly humor. But she was also very much her own person, fiercer and more self-reliant than either of them had ever been, and for her to be so vulnerable right now was a rarity in itself and spoke volumes of the strain she was under. “Allura,” he said quietly, “as one of your fathers and as your advisor, believe me when I say you are doing the best that anyone could possibly expect of you. You aren’t trying to do everything yourself. You’re letting yourself rely on the strengths and knowledge of others. And you’re learning and adapting as you go, getting stronger each time. I know it’s not easy. Leading never is, even when you’re not in the middle of a war. But Alfor and Linnata would be proud of you, little flower, just as I am. You’re doing just fine.”

 

Allura stared at him for a moment, blinking rapidly. Then her breath hitched into a sob and she flung herself into his arms once more, clinging to him as she cried. “Oh, Papa, I miss them so much…” She choked out.

 

“I know, Allura. I know. I miss them too.” Coran wrapped his arms around her and held her close, murmuring soft reassurance into her hair through a throat thick with his own returning tears. His husband and wife may be gone, but his daughter at least was still with him, still safe. She may have been trying to bear a unimaginable burden of leadership for which she was largely unprepared, but he would help her carry the weight as much as he was able. The paladins would too, the way they did for each other if she only gave them the chance. This had been a long time coming, he thought. He would have to talk to her later about allowing herself to hurt, to express her emotions and rely on others for reassurance as well, the way the paladins did. Stars knew she needed that support in these difficult times. For now, though, this release would have to be enough.


	39. Chapter 39

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No warnings for this chapter, but this is the first one where I managed to make myself cry, so there's that.
> 
> HOLY SHIT WE HAVE FANART I'M SCREAMING  
> https://moritomb.tumblr.com/post/171036307237/alejandro-kurogane-from-the-the-last-aspect-fic
> 
> Also because tumblr continues to be a pile of garbage and insist that vldaspect is an explicit tumblr, I've added pages of the relevant information from that blog (spoilers, reference pics, the aspect lists, etc) to my main tumblr dennymark-legobutt. I can be reached at either blog.
> 
> (Sorry this one took so long to go up, guys! Had some writers block and then got slammed with a brutal flu when it was nearly done.)

A light breeze stirred the ocean into small, rippling waves that glittered in the early morning sunlight over Varadero Beach. In the McClain-Martinez household across the street, Rosa McClain-Martinez stood at the kitchen window, watching the water flow, and took a moment to just breathe.

 

The last twenty-four hours had been sheer pandemonium. From the moment she had stepped outside to see what her children had been yelling about only to freeze in horror at the distant streaks of light and far-off fireballs high over their heads, she had been constantly on the move, soothing terrified children, calling relatives, watching the news in a desperate attempt to understand what was happening. Brothers and sisters, both hers and Alistair’s, had started arriving within ten minutes of her first phone calls with nieces and nephews in tow, gathering around the TV with the news channel playing and other stations and websites on every tablet and phone. And then they’d heard the rebroadcasts of the transmissions from the ships. Heard Human voices. Heard  _ Alonza. _

 

Alonza, her clever, smiling boy who they had cried over an empty casket for over a year earlier after the Garrison had called them and told them he was dead, in a training accident of all things, as if Alonza had ever been any less than scrupulously careful when other people might be at risk, because he would never forgive himself if he was the cause of someone else getting hurt. Alonza whose familiar cheerful voice she thought she would never hear again, calling out to others both Human and alien as the TV showed strange ships that no Human ever built engaged in a pitched battle high in orbit over the Earth. Alonza, her son,  _ alive _ .

 

Shock. Disbelief. Eyes too blurred with tears to see the Garrison photo of her son on the TV or the footage of the battle raging back and forth, Rosa could only sit and listen, taking in her son's voice as her family argued around her or tried to explain things to the confused younger children. She could hear familiar anxiety, and stress that was more than understandable under the circumstances. But there was also an undertone of strength and confidence that she'd never heard from him before. While she didn't understand half of what was being said, it seemed as if he'd come into his own wherever he'd vanished to among the stars.

 

When he'd fallen silent, disappearing, she'd gathered, into one of the enemy ships in order to sabotage it, she finally took in the other voices and the faces on the screen and realized that she recognized some of them. Hunk she knew from countless skype calls during Alonza's time at the Garrison, her son's best friend who had been so good to him there. That he'd been killed in the accident as well was upsetting, but now it filled her with relief. Alonza hadn't been alone. And those were the faces of two of the crew of the ill-fated Kerberos mission, there wasn’t a single person in the family who couldn’t recognize Alonza’s hero, the prodigy pilot Takashi Shirogane, at first sight or sound--by God, he’d been so devastated when the announcement of the supposed crash had been made, crying on the phone with her for hours--and that was definitely Matthew Holt, one of the scientists on the mission. She didn't know who the other two were, although they sounded young. None of them were her son, though, and it was his voice she waited to hear again with her heart in her throat. The relief when she finally did was overwhelming, and she'd sagged back on the couch in tears, not realizing until minutes later that the battle was finally, mercifully over.

 

Astonishment had given way to serious discussion after that, the grown-ups arguing back and forth about the implications of the events of the last few hours while the teenagers contributed updates now and then from the blogs and news sites and children requested juice or snacks here and there, too young to understand how close they had probably all come to death today. Alonza was alive. The Garrison had lied. The crew of the Kerberos mission were also alive, and the Garrison had lied about that too. The aliens? Who knew. There was a thick undercurrent of anger in the house, and the first reporter who'd had the nerve to knock at her door was also the last after the unfortunate man got the sharp edge of her sister-in-law Agatha's tongue. But there was joy, too, when Fernan informed them that the ships had finished landing in Arizona. Their boy was back on Earth, and it was only a matter of time until he came home.

 

They talked and they waited, no one wanting to be away when he arrived. Rosa found space in the beds and on couches for the youngsters as they started to fall asleep, and the adults curled up wherever they could find space on the floor. It was uncomfortable, but no one cared. Not when it meant being there when Alonza came back to them. By the time the sun rose she was the only one awake, too keyed up and overwhelmed to sleep, and under the morning light it finally began to sink in.

 

Her baby boy, whose picture she prayed over each morning. She couldn't see it from where she stood in the kitchen but she knew the placement of the frame, the candle, a few small trinkets that had been placed around it to be taken to his grave the next time they went. The loss had been like a knife in her heart, making its presence felt constantly, sharp grief and heavy guilt. What kind of mother let something like this happen to her son? The phone call, the funeral, they were moments that she would never, ever forget. But now, like a miracle from God himself, her son had been restored to her.

 

Her breath hitched and she pressed a hand tightly over her mouth to muffle the sound, hugging herself with her free arm as her body shook with sobs. This was happening. It was really happening. Alonza was alive, was coming back to her. She would get to see his smile and hear his voice and hold him in her arms and tell him how much she loved him and how proud she was because she knew, she  _ knew _ she had never said either of those things enough. Tears were spilling over onto her cheeks as she shuddered and her heart seemed to be trying to soar and sink at the same time.

 

Stairs creaked behind her on the far side of the living room, followed a few moments later by strong arms wrapping themselves around her from behind and a bearded chin resting on the top of her head. Alistair, swaying them both on the spot in a comforting motion. “Easy, Rosa.” He murmured softly. “Easy. I’ve got you.”

 

Rosa leaned into her husband’s chest, grateful for the support as her turbulent emotions, grief and joy and relief and shock and others she couldn’t separate all at once, threatened to overwhelm her. The sea was a bright blur through the tears, and she had to press her hand hard over her mouth to keep her weeping quiet and not wake the sleepers in the living room.

 

Alistair held her until her tears were reduced to drying streaks on her cheeks and she was able to lace her fingers with his instead of pressing them to her lips. He kissed the top of her head, hugging her closer, and offered her a damp dishtowel to dry her eyes. “Better, sweetheart?”

 

She nodded, swiping at her eyes with a sigh. “He’s coming home.” Her voice was a hoarse whisper of joy.

 

“He is.” Alistair’s voice was equally quiet but no less relieved. “He’ll be here soon, don’t worry.” He added, answering an unspoken fear, and chuckled. “As if he’d wait any longer than he had to after all this time.”

 

Rosa laughed as well, and turned her attention back to the water. The waves still glittered white-gold in the morning light. The sun must be barely up in Arizona, if it was at all. Alonza was probably still in bed, he was never an early riser given the choice. It would likely be hours before he arrived, and some of the kids would be wanting breakfast soon. With a fond sigh, she started to turn away toward the stove.

 

Her husband’s arms tightened, stopping her. “In fact…” His voice held a hint of excitement. “Call me crazy, but I think that’s him now.”

 

Pulling away from Alistair, she leaned on the counter, peering out the window across the sea. In the distance, she could make out a dark shape in the sky, small, but growing by the moment into the recognizable form of a blue robotic lion, one of the same lions from the battle yesterday. Her breath caught in her throat with sudden, absolute certainty, and she flung herself away from the window and headed for the door, all attempts at quietness cast aside in her haste. “Alonza!”

 

______

 

Kurogane’s arm was a reassuring weight around Alejandro’s waist as they stood gripping the back of Lance’s chair. His fingers dug into the padding in nervous anticipation. Up ahead, a thin, dark line on the horizon was steadily expanding into a coastline that spread out in either direction as they drew closer, colourful blurs resolving themselves into towns and cities, beaches and roads, and finally houses and people as they zeroed in on their destination. Alejandro swallowed hard around the lump in his throat. He recognized those buildings, the shops and houses and beaches. Memories, faded and blurred with time, were slipping sharply back into focus everywhere he looked, and he had to close his eyes for a moment against the onslaught.

 

Lance’s sharp inhalation had them snapping back open a moment later. They were almost to the shore, waves lapping at the sand in front of them. And across the street, a house that he’d known like the back of his hand once, faded yellow paint and bikes in the yard and a small figure hurtling out the door--

 

“Blue, take us in, please, I can’t--” Lance was choking out through tears, throwing off his safety harness and struggling to his feet. Alejandro stood frozen as the younger male pushed past him, Blue rumbling as she swooped down under her own power, settling in the sand of the beach and lowering her head to let her pilot out. Through the screen he saw the figure dashing toward them resolve itself into Rosa McClain-Martinez a moment before Lance hurtled out of Blue’s open mouth and collided with her in a fierce, desperate hug.

 

“Alejandro?” Kurogane’s quiet voice shook him out of his daze to realize there were tears on his face. He touched his cheek absently. When had he started crying? His partner sighed and wiped at his face with his sleeve. “Come on. We need to go down to the airlock for when it’s time.”

 

Alejandro managed a small nod at that. They’d agreed on that this morning; Lance would go out first, and once he had a chance to talk he would explain the basics of the time travel situation and introduce Alejandro and Kurogane. It had sounded so simple when they planned it out, but now the thought of stepping out there seemed daunting. But he let Kurogane lead him out of the cockpit anyway, tugging the green jacket tighter around himself. Family. Lance had promised.

 

They stopped in the shadows at the back of the airlock, the smell of the sea wafting in from Blue’s open mouth. On the sand in front of her, Lance was buried in the arms of his parents, all talking over each other in rapid Spanish that took Alejandro a long moment to decipher. Holt may have made sleep-learning tapes to teach the others Spanish for his sake, but after a while the language had carried the weight of too many memories and he’d stopped using it. Now he was rustier than he’d even realized.

 

Distant shouting drew his attention away from the trio in front of him and toward the house across the quiet street. More figures were spilling out of the door now--someone else must have woken up and seen Blue on the beach--and his breath caught in his throat as they came running. Tia Agatha. Novia. Mariposa. Cousin Tajo. Tia Sophia. Tio Kieran. Cousin Antonio. Fernan. More and more, his brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles, cousins. The family he hadn’t seen in over seven years, charging across the sand to sweep Lance up in a riotous hug, all yelling and cheering their joy. The lump in his throat was back. He could barely breathe, watching them. Loud, happy,  _ alive. _

 

He was crying again, and Kurogane pulled him into his arms, rubbing his back in silent comfort. Alejandro closed his eyes and buried his face in his partner’s shoulder, listening to the joyous tumult outside over his own shuddering breathing.

 

It took several minutes for things to calm down enough for Lance to speak.

 

“Okay, okay! I know you guys’re wondering where I’ve been and what happened. It’s a really long story, and I’m really sorry for leaving without telling anyone.” The guilt in his voice was as obvious as the tears on many of the faces outside the lion. “I’ll tell you guys everything when we get inside, okay? But there’s someone I want you all to meet first.”

 

A ripple of confusion, and one of the older cousins making a wisecrack about Alonza finally bringing home a girl to meet the parents who just happened to have green skin. Lance flushed. “N-No! Nothing like that. Sort of. But no. Just let me explain, alright?”

 

Alejandro watched as the others settled down, listening expectantly. Lance ran his good hand through his hair, huffing out a breath. “Okay. So. I’ll tell you guys the full story after, I promise. But for right now...basically, short version of the important part, we found out a few weeks ago that time travel is possible. And we found that out because two of us--of our group, Voltron,” he gestured to himself, then to Blue “came back in time because things went really, really wrong and they were trying to fix that.”

 

The family around him was dead silent now as Lance took a deep breath. “They...they lost everyone they cared about, in their timeline. But now that they’re here, we want them to have that back. Okay? That’s why I brought them with me. This is their homecoming too.” He turned, making a beckoning gesture toward Blue. Alejandro breathed deeply, shaky and anxious. That was their cue. Kurogane squeezed his hand. “Right beside you, sharpshooter.” He whispered softly.

 

As they walked down the ramp, Alejandro could hear the shocked murmurs, feel the stares. He couldn’t blame them. The resemblance between himself and his younger counterpart was too obvious to miss. And given that introduction, all but the younger ones would already be putting two and two together.

 

“Mami, Papi,” Lance’s voice was quieter now as he focused entirely on his parents. Rosa had her hands clasped over her mouth in shock as her gaze flicked from Alejandro to Lance and back again. “This is...me. Another me, from a future that we’re trying to prevent. He goes by Alejandro, after our brother. Since  _ he _ ,” he nodded to the side at his eldest brother, who looked stunned at the revelation, “usually goes by Leandro--or did?” He gave his brother an anxious look, and sighed in relief when he received a nod that yes, the nickname was still in use, “Anyway, I thought we could call him--” a wave at the time-traveller “--Alej to avoid confusion. And this is Kurogane, Alej’s...partner?”

 

His rambling trailed off into a thick silence filled only by the hush of the waves and a gull’s cry somewhere overhead. Alejandro could feel dozens of pairs of eyes on him but his gaze was locked only on his mother. She was staring at him, emotions playing too rapidly across her face for him to identify all of them. Shock, definitely. Confusion, understandably. Horror, maybe, and he couldn’t blame her as her brown eyes glanced to Lance and back to him once more. Comparing. The son who was meant to be here, who had saved them, against the one who had failed.

 

The quiet was stretching too long. This was a mistake. He shouldn’t have come here. He didn’t belong. Swallowing hard, he took a half step back as an apology started to form on his tongue.

 

Arms encircled him and he froze.

 

“Welcome home, baby.” Rosa whispered into his ear, voice thick with tears as she pulled him against her, a hug every bit as tight as the one she’d wrapped around Lance a few minutes earlier. “We missed you so much.”

 

Alejandro buried his face in his mother’s shoulder and cried.

 

_______

 

Rosa leaned against the living room door frame, watching with a fond smile as the little ones swarmed over Alonza and Alej, talking over each other at a million miles a minute as they pestered the two of them with questions that they did their best to answer. If not for the sling around Alonza’s arm and Alej’s presence, it could have been any time that Alonza came home from the Garrison for the holidays.

 

Alej. Of all the things that had crossed her mind since yesterday as to what her son might have gone through while he was in space, meeting a time-travelling duplicate of himself was not something she’d considered. He was years older than Alonza, scarred and careworn, with his face etched with lines of grief overtop of the older ones of laughter. And yet, for all that, the two still looked so much alike.

 

Seeing him standing on the sand beside her son, her first feeling had been one of wrongness, like looking at a distorted reflection in a funhouse mirror. This was not, could not be her son, the little boy she’d let go off to the Garrison with his dreams of spaceflight. Time-traveller or not, this battered soldier couldn’t possibly be her son, her smiling, cheerful Alonza.

 

And then she’d looked into those blue eyes, seen the hope and longing. Seen the hurt as he started to withdraw, closing in on himself the way she’d seen him do in those rare moments when his insecurities and anxieties showed through. And in that moment the horror was swept away and left behind a tired young man who’d fought so hard and so long to come home.

 

She’d let him cry himself out on her shoulder, clutching at her shirt like he was afraid she’d vanish if he dared to let go, and she couldn’t help but feel her eyes burn with fresh tears for his pain. Alonza had said this older version of him had lost everything. Did that include her too? She had a painful, guilty feeling it did. But he was here now, and they were his family, even if they hadn’t expected to be before he arrived. She was still his mother, and that meant that he was her son.

 

When the tears had dried or been wiped away on sleeves (she wondered at the fact that Alej was the one wearing Alonza’s jacket. There was probably a story there, too), they made their way back to the house and crowded into the living room to listen some more. The story the pair of the had proceeded to tell was more bizarre than she’d ever imagined. From the Kerberos mission’s capture by a race of conquering aliens called the Galra, to Shiro’s escape and subsequent rescue from the garrison by Alonza, Hunk, and two others (she recognized the names now, Pidge, Alonza’s antisocial teammate who had disappeared in the same ‘accident’, and Keith, the boy he’d been both infatuated with and aggravated by), and their discovery of the same Blue Lion who stood calmly on the beach despite the growing crowd of onlookers clustering around the edge of a spherical blue energy shield. They’d gone into space, discovered the lost Princess of an alien race, and found themselves on the front line of a ten thousand-year-old interstellar war.

 

And they’d been fighting ever since, right up until the Galra had decided to target their home in order to teach them a lesson.

 

Rosa felt a sick feeling settle into her gut as she listened. She could tell, from the hesitations, the pauses, the glances between the three, that as much as they were saying, there was just as much they weren’t. You didn’t fight a war without getting hurt. The visible scars on Alej and Kurogane and the bandages wrapped around Alonza’s hand spoke volumes about what the Galra were capable of, and she wondered how many more were hidden under their clothes. She wouldn’t press them for details right now--no doubt they were editing the story for the sake of the children--but she knew they were there.

 

At the end of the story, the adults dispersed, forming tight knots of conversation as they processed what they’d just been told. The teenagers formed uncertain clumps, casting wary glances toward the windows as though the Galra might return at any second. For all Rosa knew, they might, but she didn’t doubt Alonza and Alej had some way of being alerted if the threat arose.

 

The little ones, though, didn’t care about any of it. To them, the most important thing was that Alonza was finally home. And Alej? A new brother or cousin that Alonza’d brought home from space, who they were determined to get to know.

 

Her eyes shifted to the only other person in the room who was by themselves, the dark-haired young man who’d emerged from the blue lion at Alej’s side. Kurogane, Alonza had called him, and said he was Alej’s partner. He was sitting on the couch watching with a soft, loving smile as the other two were half-buried under children. While partner might simply have meant he was Alej’s companion in time travel, the look on his face left no doubt in her mind exactly what the two meant to each other. Which told her exactly why he’d been brought along as well.

 

Crossing the room, she sat down beside him and gave him a small smile. “Kurogane, right?” She said, switching to English for his benefit. He’d seemed to be following along well enough so far, but she doubted Spanish was his native tongue by the look of him. “I’m Rosa. Alonza--and Alej’s--mother.”

 

“I know.” His answering smile was shy but warm as he shook her offered hand. “Alejandro’s told me so much about you. I’m glad to finally be able to meet you.”

 

“It’s good to meet you too. Alonza said you were Alej’s partner. For how long?” Rosa couldn’t keep the curiosity out of her voice. The recounting of their adventures had been thin on the details of things outside the war. She needed to know more, to know that if her son-- _ sons _ \--hadn’t been safe, they’d at least been somewhat happy.

 

His dark eyes lit up at the question, sliding over to look at Alej, who was holding very still as Lur examined the scar on his face with as stern a frown as a seven-year-old could wear. “A little over four years, give or take.” His mouth twisted in a wry smile. “But we were dancing around our feelings for a long time before that.”

 

Her gaze fixed on Alonza, who was blushing and sputtering denials at Tajo. “Is that so?” she grinned. “And how long for that?”

 

Kurogane followed her gaze and laughed. “He’s getting there, don’t worry. I think he and Keith will admit their feelings to each other sooner than we did.”

 

“So it is Keith, then? And he feels the same way?”

 

“Yes. Lance has liked him since their Garrison days, he just refused to admit it while he was trying to measure up to his level. Keith’s feelings came later, much later, but they’re there. Trust me.” Another wry half-grin. “I know  _ exactly _ how he feels about him.”

 

So Kurogane had been Keith once upon a time. Rosa made a mental note of that. Hopefully she would get to meet this Keith soon, see the man beside her as he had once been when her son was first falling in love with him.

 

“Rosa.” 

 

Kurogane’s soft voice drew her attention back to him. The smile was gone, replaced by a serious expression. The chatter in the background around them seemed to mute itself as she gave her full attention to whatever he had to say. “Yes?”

 

“I...wanted to thank you.” He stared down at his hands, tugging at his sleeves as he sorted out his words. “For Alejandro.”

 

She remained silent, sensing he wasn’t finished.

 

“He’s the best thing that ever happened to me. Even more than Shiro. When we got together, I...I was a  _ mess. _ Trust issues, emotional baggage, the works. Hardly relationship material.”

 

A surge of anger filled her on the behalf of both Kurogane and Keith at the troubled childhood those words hinted at. “I’d never have guessed from the way you look at him.”

 

That brought a small smile back onto his face. “That’s thanks to Alej. He didn’t care that I was messed up. He didn’t get upset when I struggled with our relationship. He accepted me and he learned to understand me and he helped me heal.”

 

“That does sound like Alonza.” Rosa smiled. In the middle of the floor, he and Alej were racing to see who could braid the sides of a giggling Juanita’s hair the fastest with only one hand. “But I’m not sure why you’re thanking me for my son’s good heart.”

 

“Because he got that heart from you.”

 

She looked back over at Kurogane in surprise, brown eyes meeting darkest violet. He held her gaze, speaking with a quiet certainty that took her off-guard. “You raised him to be the kindest, most generous, most  _ selfless _ person I have ever been lucky enough to meet. And he has a heart of pure gold that I  _ know _ he inherited from you, based on the stories he’s told me and what happened on the beach earlier. No one would have blamed you if you told Alej ‘you are not my son.’ He’s not from this timeline after all. But instead you hugged him and told him ‘welcome home.’”

 

His gaze dropped down to his hands again, clasped in his lap. “So thank you. For being Alejandro and Lance’s mother, for raising him the way you did. I’m so lucky to have him. I love him so much. And he loves me.”

 

Unable to find the words to respond to the quiet awe in that last sentence, Rosa did the only thing she could think of. She leaned forward and pulled a startled Kurogane into her arms, hugging him until his muscles uncoiled and he relaxed awkwardly into the embrace.

 

“Thank you.” She whispered. “Thank you for loving my son. For making sure he was never alone and for keeping him safe all these years.” She could only guess at the tragedies of the other timeline these two had come from, but their scars, and the fact that it was just the two of them here, spoke plenty of their losses without them having to utter a word. “Thank you for being there for him.”

 

His own arms lifted to return the hug at that. “I love him. I’d protect him with my life a thousand times over and never regret it.”

 

“I know you would.” Rosa straightened, wiping her eyes on her sleeve as she smiled at Kurogane. “You’ll keep protecting them, won’t you? Both of them?”

 

He stared at her. “You know we can’t stay?” He sounded almost relieved. They’d probably been prepared for a fight on the subject. 

 

She sighed. “If it was up to me, I’d chain them to the radiator to keep them down here where they’re safe.” She admitted, drawing a surprised chuckle from the boy. “But it isn't safe, is it? Not until that war is over.”

 

“No.” He gave her a sad, understanding smile. “No, it isn't. And there’s no one else who can take our places up there.”

 

“Because of the lions.” Chosen. That was the word Alonza had used to describe how they’d formed their bonds with the huge machines. The lions had chosen them.

 

Kurogane nodded. “Because of the Lions. Finding apprentices that the lions would accept would take time we can’t spare. And they wouldn’t be ready to fight.”

 

“So it has to be them.”

 

“Yes. I’m sorry.”

 

Rosa sighed. The thought of Alonza and Alej going back into space, to fight a vast war against an enemy who thought nothing of blowing up entire planets, was terrifying beyond words. They had come back to her once, next time she might not be so lucky. But she knew her son. Knew he would never forgive her if she tried to keep him from protecting the people he loved and the innocents he’d never even met. She looked at Kurogane, letting the lines of grief and worry of the past year show on her face. “Promise me you’ll protect them.”

 

He straightened, pressed a fist to his chest, and bowed, an obvious salute even if she couldn’t begin to guess where it came from. “I’ll do everything I can to make sure they come home safely, Rosa.” He lifted his head and looked into her eyes. “On my honour as a Red Paladin and a Blade of Marmora.”


	40. Chapter 40

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No warning for this chapter.
> 
> So, how about that Season 5, huh? I can't believe my different classes of Alteans with different abilities turned out to be canon, holy shit, I've been screaming since I watched it.
> 
> Sorry for the delay getting this chapter out, between getting over being sick when I last updated and writing some oneshots (there are three new ones, all featuring various Holts because what else do I ever write?), this one took longer than I expected. But I'm really happy with how 43 turned out, and hopefully I can keep that momentum going.
> 
> Finally, welcome to the Garrett family reunion chapter! I apologize in advance for any inaccuracies in the representations of Samoan culture. If you see anything really, offensively wrong, PLEASE tell me and I will either fix it if I can or make a note within the story itself if I can't. The last thing I want is to be disrespectful.

The Pacific ocean was a dark expanse of waves below Yellow’s thrusters as the Lion streaked south and westwards over the open water. In the cockpit, Hunk’s hands clenched and unclenched on the controls, jittery with anticipation. Yellow rumbled under his feet, a confident reassurance that everything would be fine, and the paladin offered up a small grin in response. “I know buddy. I’m just anxious to see them again.”

 

So anxious that he couldn’t even wait for a reasonable hour to get moving. Even knowing that Samoa was four hours behind Arizona, he’d left at the same time Lance had, the two Lions taking off in different directions toward distant islands and the families that waited there. By now Lance would be home, and Hunk couldn’t help but crack a small grin at the thought of Rosa chewing out her wayward son while hugging the crap out of him at the same time. But Samoa was a lot further away than Cuba and for now all Hunk could see was black sea and star-filled skies.

 

He heaved a deep sigh, forcing himself to settle back in his chair. Staring out at the darkness wouldn’t bring him home to his family any sooner. “Man, Asoese’s gonna get a kick out of you, Yellow. She loves cats.” His smile grew at the thought of his little sister. “She’d take in every stray in the neighbourhood if we let her.” A ripple of amusement, and a promise to be a good kitty for his paladin’s family, before Yellow nudged his attention back to the viewscreens. Zooming in showed a pinprick of light on the horizon, drawing nearer as they flew.

 

Hunk straightened, breath catching in his throat and pulse racing. Both the scanners and his calculations of the travel time based on his lion’s maximum in-atmosphere speed said they should be getting close. That had to be the lights of Samoa. His home.

 

“Let’s go, buddy.” He murmured, rubbing away the tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. “Almost there.”

 

A growl as Yellow somehow managed to coax a little more speed out of his thrusters in response to his paladin’s urgency. There were more pinpoints of light now, bigger coastal towns on both major islands separating from the bright spot of Apia as he drew closer. Hunk arrowed straight for it. Once he was closer he would turn and follow the coast until he found the small town just west of the city where he’d lived with his mothers since he was three years old.

 

Most of the buildings were dark, unsurprising since it was well past 3 AM, but the streetlights showed enough for Hunk’s heart to swell with warmth at the sight of the familiar city as he approached. How many times had he seen this same view from a boat rather than an alien spaceship? He allowed himself a moment to bask in the feeling of being home, then turned Yellow west while he was still a safe distance offshore. The last thing he wanted to do was cause a panic flying Yellow over the city after yesterday’s battle. Instead he followed the coast, crossing the mouth of Vaiusu Bay to where Apia stopped and the thread of houses and businesses that circled the island started. Up ahead, Cape Faleula jutted out beyond the smaller twists and bumps of the shoreline and he headed straight for it with his heart beating an eager rhythm in his chest.

 

He slowed as he approached the cape, eyes scanning the buildings along the coast road. It should be right about--

 

A small light on the shore drew his gaze. It looked like a bonfire, on the beach, and Hunk’s heart leapt into his throat. It couldn’t be.

 

Ever since he could remember, his Mama had a special tradition for when he went away, whether it was for school, a trip with friends, or even just an overnight fishing trip. When he got home, there would always be a small fire burning away in the pit she’d built on the beach behind their home, with layers of ash to show all the hours it’d been lit. He’d asked her once why she did that, and she’d smiled and hugged him close beside it as the evening settled in. 

 

_ “A light to guide your journey home, Hunk, so that you’ll never lose your way.” _

 

Tears sprang to his eyes. Of course it was. Knowing her, she’d lit it before the Castle had even touched down. Mom would have helped her keep it burning since.

 

“Come on, Yellow. We’ve kept them waiting long enough.” He whispered around the lump in his throat. The lion didn’t need to be told twice, dropping toward the small beach with surprising delicacy for an eighty-thousand-ton metal fighting machine and landing just far enough away that the thrusters didn’t spray sand all over the small group clustered by the flames. With a grateful pat on the console Hunk was up and moving. For the first time ever he couldn’t seem to get out of his Lion fast enough.

 

He sprinted down the ramp and hit the sand running, slipping and stumbling but managing to keep his feet. “Mom! Mama!” The figures on the beach were scrambling to their own feet, struggling to get their own footing as they ran to meet him. And then there were arms around him, a collision hard enough to knock them both off their feet and he found himself kneeling, wrapped up tight in La’ei’s arms as she wept his name and Fetuilelagi reached them and dropped to her knees as well to hug them both close just as the first joyful sob wrenched itself free of his throat.

 

“Shh, baby, I’ve got you, I’ve got you.” His mom’s voice was a hoarse whisper in his ear as he clung to them both, sucking in shuddering breaths around tearful wails. He was all but sandwiched between them, tangled up in their arms, and man, he couldn’t remember the last time he felt this warm and  _ safe _ and the thought just made him cry harder. A hand stroked his hair, lips pressed a loving kiss to his forehead, and two familiar voices told him over and over how much he’d been missed through tears of their own as they held him close.

 

A shriek of “HunkHunkHunk _ HunkHunk! _ ” just before a small body slammed into theirs announced the arrival of Asoese, almost knocking them all over onto the sand, and he managed a watery laugh that was half sob and freed a hand to pull her against his chest and buried his face in her hair. His sister.

 

Uncle Henare, following at a jog, crouched down and added his own long arms to the hug. “It’s good to see you again, Kiddo.” He whispered. Hunk could only nod, swallowing hard as he fought to get his tears under control. He wanted to talk to his family, catch up on everything he’d missed and tell him how sorry he was for worrying them, and he couldn’t do that when he was crying too hard to form the words. He swallowed and sucked in a harsh breath, then another, feeling a hand rubbing his back in a calming gesture. It helped.

 

“I’m sorry!” He choked out when he had enough air to speak. “I’m so sorry Mom, Mama, I didn’t mean to disappear! I didn’t mean to worry you!” Worry wasn’t even the word for it, the Garrison had told their families they were  _ dead _ , he couldn’t even imagine the pain they all must have been in for the last year since he’d gone into space. “I’m so, _ so _ sorry.”

 

There were tears on his Mama’s face, tears because of  _ him _ , and he didn’t think he’d ever forgive himself for all the ones she must have cried that he hadn’t been there to see. But she was smiling through them now as she cupped his face in both hands, wiping away the damp trails on his cheeks with gentle thumbs. “We forgive you, baby. All that matters is you’re home now.”

 

________

 

La’ei leaned on the back of the couch, watching her son’s face as he slept curled around his sister. Midway through his recounting of everything that had happened since he’d vanished into the depths of space he’d started yawning, a long day followed by an all-too-short sleep beginning to catch up to him. When it got to the point he was yawning more than talking, Fetuilelagi had put her foot down and, in a tone that brooked no argument, ordered him to take a nap. The rest of the story would keep, she informed him, and if he slept Asoese would too. The be-a-responsible-older-brother guilt-trip did the trick, and within minutes both were out cold on the couch. Fetuilelagi tucked them in with a smile that was equal parts smugness and soft affection before turning to chivy her own brother upstairs to the guest room.

 

Even in sleep, the changes in their son were obvious. A little more muscle here, a little less fat there. New scars and calluses on his hands from tools and machinery, and a few--very few, thank the ancestors--that didn’t look like the marks of any tool she’d ever seen. His jaw was a little squarer, his shoulders a little broader than they had been the last time he’d been home, the signs of approaching adulthood. And there were the beginnings of worry lines on his forehead that troubled her. It was a small reassurance, thought, that the smile lines hadn’t faded in the slightest. She reached down and with a delicate touch smoothed back some stray locks of hair--longer than she remembered--that were trying to escape his familiar headband, smiling as he shifted under her hand and tried to burrow deeper into the cushions with a tiny sound of protest.

 

An arm wrapped around her shoulders, Fetuilelagi holding her close as she joined her wife in watching their children sleep. “Come on. We should let them rest.” She whispered after a moment, and steered La’ei away to the kitchen.

 

Through the large kitchen window they could see the dawn just starting to lighten the sky, painting the scattered clouds in pale streaks of yellow and pink. A few early morning travellers had stopped in their journeys and were down on the sand by the dying fire, taking pictures of the strange ship Hunk had arrived in. The Yellow Lion was stretched out on the sand with its head on its paws and its tail waving in slow arcs, looking for all the world like a lazy cat if a cat was eighty feet tall laying down and built like an armored tank. She tensed. That thought was an unwelcome reminder of the story Hunk had been telling before exhaustion caught up with him.

 

 

“A war, Fetu.” La’ei whispered, tucking herself closer to her wife’s side. “Our son has been fighting a  _ war _ .” The very thought made her feel sick. Hunk was an  _ engineer _ , not a soldier.

 

Fetuilelagi’s arms tightened around her. “Yes. But he’s here now. He’s  _ safe _ . He won’t have to fight anymore.”

 

La’ei gave an uncertain nod. Outside, the lion shifted, lifting its head to look toward the road in response to a faint squeal of tires. The giant machine was very visible over the houses, and no doubt the unexpected sight had almost caused an accident. Sure enough, a minute later a newcomer joined the small crowd watching it from a respectful distance. Apparently deciding the event didn’t concern it, the massive fanged head dropped back to its paws, golden eyes gazing at the house instead as it waited for its pilot to return.

 

Which he must be planning to, she realized with a jolt. Otherwise why would the machine wait for him?

 

Her heart rebelled at the idea. She didn't want to lose her child again. Maybe if she could make the lion leave without him...for a moment she entertained the mental image of going after the giant cat with a broom, and almost made herself laugh. That cannon on the end of the tail wasn’t just for show.

 

Before La’ei could give voice to the troubling thought, a soft sound from the other room captured her attention. A quiet sound of distress. She and Fetuilelagi were back in the living room in an instant.

 

Hunk was still asleep, but he was restless, shifting and mumbling. As Fetuilelagi crouched beside the couch, La’ei caught the words “no” and “Pidge”. His brow was furrowed in a distraught expression, and even as she watched a single tear ran down his cheek to soak into the cushion. Fetuilelagi put a gentle hand on his shoulder, shaking him. “Wake up, sweetheart. You’re having a nightmare.”

 

His eyes flew open with a gasp at the touch. For a moment he seemed to look right through them both, gaze still locked on something in the distance, and his hand jerked toward his hip, grabbing for a weapon that wasn’t there. Then he shuddered, putting his hand over his face, and drew in a shaky breath. “I’m okay.” He mumbled under his breath after a few seconds of steadying himself. “Thanks, buddy.”

 

The lion, La’ei realized after a moment. He’d mentioned being linked to it. 

 

Frowning, Fetuilelagi stroked his cheek and was rewarded with a weak smile. “I’m okay mom. Just a bad dream.” Taking care not to wake Asoese, he pushed himself up into a sitting position. “I think I’ll pass on the rest of that nap, though.”

 

Sitting beside him on the couch, La’ei pulled him to lean against her side and put a comforting arm around him. “You were crying in your sleep. Do you want to talk about it?”

 

Hunk leaned against her shoulder and shook his head. “Not really? I just...we had a mission recently and Pidge got really, really hurt.” He swallowed hard, closing his eyes, and she could feel the tension in his body. “Sometimes it’s hard not to imagine what would have happened if things went just a little different.”

 

La’ei felt sick at what he was implying. How many times had her son seen his teammates, his friends, almost die in the course of the last year? How many times had  _ he _ almost died? It didn’t matter if you apparently had magical machinery that could heal even potentially fatal wounds, experiences like that changed you. She could see the shadows in his eyes, like the ones she remembered from her father. Turning, she hugged him to her chest, stroking his hair. “It’s okay, baby. You’re safe now. You’re all safe now. You won’t have to worry about things like that anymore.” She soothed.

 

He stiffened in her arms. Then he was pulling away, sitting up to stare at her. “Mama...You  _ do _ know we can’t stay, right?” He whispered.

 

A tense silence settled between them. Fetuilelagi straightened, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “I don’t see why the  _ hell _ not.” She snapped. “You’ve done more than enough, Hunk. Someone else can pilot that beast from now on. You’re staying right here where you belong.”

 

Hunk grimaced. “It doesn’t work like that, Mom. You can’t just throw anyone in the cockpit and expect them to be able to pilot the Lions. Coran explained it to us. The pilot’s quintessence--their energy--has to be a match for the Lion, and it has to be connected to all the other pilots. That’s  _ rare _ . Finding another set of pilots could take  _ decades _ . We don’t have that kind of time.”

 

Fetuilelagi was scowling now. A year of grief was bubbling to the surface, and La’ei knew her wife wasn’t likely to care about any mystical energies, not when her son’s safety was at stake. “Well, that’s someone else’s problem. You’re our  _ son _ , Hunk. We spent a  _ year _ believing you were  _ dead _ . We are not letting you disappear on us again.”

 

Hunk’s face was a study in conflicting emotions, guilt and grief warring with desperation and, unexpectedly, resolution. He’d always been a sweet-tempered, gentle boy, accepting his mothers’ rare ultimatums without protest. But now, for the first time she could remember, he lifted his chin and met his mother’s stubborn stare with one of his own, displaying a quiet strength that was as unexpected as it was reassuring. He knew what he was doing, La’ei realized. Not all the changes he’d undergone were physical. Nor were they all bad.

 

“Mom.” There was just the slightest break in his voice, but he took a deep breath, straightened his back, and continued. “I’m sorry. I really am, okay? But I  _ have _ to go.” He saw her opening her mouth to speak and held up a hand. “Look, if I could I would rather stay right here. I mean, I’ve seen  _ way _ more of outer space than I ever expected when I applied to the Garrison, and honestly? It’s more than enough for one lifetime. But it’s not  _ about _ what I want. It’s not about what any of us want.”

 

He took a deep breath before continuing. “Zarkon, Haggar, and Lotor? They’ve been conquering their way across the universe for ten thousand years. They’ve enslaved millions of civilizations across thousands of galaxies.” His gaze was distant, looking out across the surface of a planet only he could see. “But we--us paladins--we can put a stop to that. We’re the only ones who can. No one else is strong enough. And I’m not going to let people go on suffering for who knows how long just because I don’t want to fight anymore.”

 

Hunk lifted his head, looking into first Fetulelagi’s eyes, then La’ei’s. The difference there was jarring. While they still sparked with curiosity and intelligence, youthful innocence had been replaced by a quiet maturity that drove home just how much her son had changed. Hunk was not the same teenager who had last sat on that couch a year and a half ago. He’d grown into a young man somewhere out there between the stars. 

 

He swallowed, eyes suddenly glittering with tears. “I’m sorry Mom, Mama.” He repeated, sounding very young and very old and very scared and very tired all at once. “I wish I didn’t have to go. I really do. But if I don’t it’s only a matter of time until the Galra come after Earth again. The only way to make sure that never happens, to keep you guys safe as well as he rest of the universe, is for us to go back up and stop them. And I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure the Galra never, ever hurt you.”

 

A long silence followed his declaration. For a moment La’ei watched her wife chew her lip, and thought she was going to press the argument. Then, to her shock, Fetuilelagi sighed, leaning down to hug Hunk as tight as she could. “Promise me you’ll come back. Promise you’ll come home safe to us.”

 

Hunk wrapped his arms around her neck, leaning into the embrace as if he never wanted it to end. “I promise I’ll do my best.”

 

La’ei leaned in to wrap her own arms around them both. She could feel Hunk’s relief in his mother’s apparent acceptance. But there was tension still in Fetuilelagi’s shoulders, and stubbornness in her gaze as she looked past her son’s head toward the kitchen and the beach beyond, where the Yellow Lion waited for its pilot. This discussion was not over. And unless La’ei could convince her wife as their son had convinced her, she dreaded to think how the continuation might go.

 

________

 

It was a good thing Yellow could talk to Hunk in his head, because there was no way he would have been able to hear him over the delighted shrieks of a cockpit full of children as they flew a slow aerial tour of Apia. The lion was purring up a storm, and was of the firm opinion that he couldn’t wait to do the same with Hunk and Shay’s cubs when they finally stopped beating around the Balmera--

 

“Shut  _ up! _ ” Hunk hissed under his breath, blushing to the tips of his ears and praying that Asoese didn’t look up from her seat in his lap and notice how dark his face was. “Ugh, you’re as bad as Mama, Yellow.”

 

He hadn’t meant to let slip that he’d found someone he liked--after all, it wasn’t as if anything had happened between them, and he didn’t get to see her very often anyway, and she had a lot to do helping to lead the people of her Balmera in rebuilding from the damage the Galra had done to them and their planet--but something he said must’ve given him away when he was recounting his adventures on the Balmera and he’d found himself being  _ interrogated _ all about Shay. He’d only managed to escape when one of the neighbours poked their head in the door to inform them that half the island was outside gearing up to celebrate Hunk’s return and triumphant victory and did they have any tables or blankets they could spare because they were running out of places to put the food people were bringing? Fetuilelagi had gone to locate the folding table they used for La’ei’s bridge club, La’ei had gone to raid the linen closet, and Hunk had made his escape outside to help with setting up.

 

Half the island might have been an exaggeration, but only a small one. The beach was packed with people as far as he could see, with gaps where firepits roasted pigs and fish taro or where people had set out clusters of tables and blankets laden with other foods. Yellow had backed up and was standing in the ocean in order to free up space on the sand, watching the proceedings with a definite air of amusement and pride. Before Hunk could take in any more details, though, someone spotted him standing by the back door, pointed, and a wild cheer went up that nearly deafened him.

 

After that everything turned into a blur of affectionate buffets and proud hugs as the yellow paladin was thoroughly welcomed and thanked by more people than he could keep track of until he was dizzy from being passed from person to person. Before long a full on party was underway, Hunk and his family the guests of honour in the middle of it all as people ate and danced and drummed and celebrated. As he savoured the taste of a bite of luau, his chest ached with sheer happiness. God, he’d missed this so much. As much as he loved the other paladins and the Castle, there was some things you just couldn’t replace. The sights, the sounds, the tastes of home. He wasn’t going to waste a minute of it while he was here, and he’d have to find a way to take as much of it with him back to the Castle as he could.

 

He ended up recounting parts of his adventures to a rapt audience, who seemed fascinated by the Balmerans in particular. Now that he thought about it, the two cultures did have a lot in common. Maybe that was why he and Shay got along so well.

 

When he talked about flying Yellow, though, Hunk found himself mobbed by kids wanting to try it.

 

“Whoah, whoah, easy, guys!” He laughed. “The Lions don’t let just anyone pilot them, sorry. But,” He gave them a conspiratory grin when he saw them pouting, “If you ask your parents, they might let me take you guys up.”

 

He ended up having to take up several groups of adults first, to reassure them it was safe. To be fair, though, he knew the Lions could be more than a little intimidating when you weren’t used to them, and the airlock being inside the mouth really didn’t help since it made you feel like you were being eaten. Even some of the toughest people he knew balked at going up the ramp. Once he got them into the cockpit and took off, though...by the time he stopped doing sightseeing flights the sun was sinking toward Savaii and he was pretty sure almost every person there had gone up at least once. Not that he minded. Flying Yellow was something he would never get tired of, and being able to share that with friends and distant relatives and kids who hadn’t discovered before now just how much fun flying could be? It was enough to make him wish he could purr like the Lion did.

 

As the last group of passengers left, he took a deep breath. The party was slowly dispersing, leaving him be to spend time with his family now that he’d been shown how much he was missed. A soft evening breeze washed in through the airlock, carrying the smell of the sea and the rainforest and the sound of waves on the shore and people calling farewell to each other in Samoan. Home.

 

Hunk stepped out onto the sand again, moving to rejoin his mothers and sister where they sat on the sand. As much as he’d enjoyed the party, there was no better place than this, here with his family.

 

One of them, anyway.

 

“Mom. Mama.” He hesitated, not quite sure how to broach the subject. He didn’t want them to think he’d replaced them.

 

“Yes, sweetheart?” His Mama smiled, putting an arm around his shoulders. One or the other of them had had him in a hug almost every time he held still long enough.

 

He sighed, trying to push the nervousness away. These were his parents. They’d understand. “I was wondering...if you’d come back to Arizona with me. Just for a little while. There’s some people I’d really like you to meet…”

 

“Your friends?” His Mom also had a soft, understanding smile on her face, putting her arm around his waist. “Of course, Hunk. I need to thank them for taking good care of my son.”

 

“Really? You will?” Almost giddy with relief, Hunk turned and threw his arms around both of them in a tight hug. “Aw man, thank you! I know it’s a long way, but Yellow’s way faster than a plane anyway. I just really wanted to introduce you guys because honestly? They’re like brothers and sisters to me now? Except Coran. He’s like a weird uncle. Even weirder than uncle Loto in Peru.”

 

“Weirder than Loto?” Fetuilelagi raised an eyebrow and La’ei giggled. “We’ll see about that.” She kissed his forehead. “I look forward to meeting my new honourary sons and daughters, then. I can tell how much they mean to you from the way you talk about them. I’m glad you weren’t alone.”

 

He shook his head, sitting back on his heels and grinning. “Nope. Took us a while to get used to each other, but even at the beginning Lance and I were looking out for each other. And now I’ve got a whole bunch of people watching my back while I watch theirs. I don’t think I could’ve handled everything without them.”

 

Fetuilelagi hummed in agreement. “All the more reason to thank them, then. But not right now. We’ll go in the morning. Alright?”

 

Hunk grinned and settled back down between them, sinking into the familiar embrace of his parents. “Sounds good to me. Right now right here is just where I want to be.”


	41. Chapter 41

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for a bit of an emotional breakdown and unhealthy coping mechanisms in this chapter. To jump over the worst of that, skip the second and third chapters of the Shiro POV section.
> 
> What is this? A new chapter less than a week after the previous one? I'm as surprised as you are! Hopefully I can keep it going, though!
> 
> Also, have a doodle of TLA's Matt!  
> https://vldaspect.tumblr.com/post/171673796420/the-last-aspects-matt-i-forgot-his-glasses

Pidge looked up and grinned as Matt and Shiro dropped into chairs across from where she, her mom, and Ryou were having lunch. Well, she was having lunch. Ryou and Mom were eyeing their plates of food goo, Ryou as though it were a particularly strange archaeological specimen and Colleen looked like she half expected it to jump up and bite her. “Nice of you to finally join us, sleepyheads.” She greeted them around a spoonful of her own goo.

 

“Morning.” Matt mumbled through a yawn, reaching for the jug of space coffee and pouring himself a glass. Shiro grunted something unintelligible that might have been a similar sentiment as he held out his own cup to be filled.

 

She snorted. “It’s afternoon.”

 

Matt groaned. “Katie, chill.” He gulped down half his glass and shuddered, and Pidge winced in sympathy. All Hunk’s best efforts had yet to make the stuff more than tolerable taste-wise, and unlike real coffee adding sugar didn’t help. “We didn’t get to sleep until late.”

 

“I know.” She smirked at her brother and his boyfriend, waiting until they were both taking drinks before continuing. “You’re both  _ covered _ in hickeys.”

 

She was rewarded by loud choking and spluttering, and cackled smugly over a spoonful of goo as a blushing Shiro tried to pull the collar of his pajamas up to his chin and Matt struggled to clear his windpipe while covering his neck with one hand. “K-Katie!” He wheezed.

 

“She’s not wrong, Matt.” Colleen put in with a chuckle. “Not that I’m not glad to see you’re finally a couple instead of constantly giving each other longing looks and sappy smiles over your textbooks.”

 

Matt made a strangled noise and picked up an empty plate to hide his face with, while beside him Shiro’s face was well past pink and on its way to being the colour of the red lion. Ryou laughed, clearly enjoying his little brother’s mortification. “Well, Colleen, at least you didn’t have to endure Takashi’s hour-long rants over the phone about Matt’s smile and the look in his eyes when he talks about the stars and alien life and how smart he is.” Shiro moaned and hid his face in his hands.

 

“No, but I did get ten-page email essays about how Takashi is ‘precious cinnamon roll too good for this world, too pure’ and how talented he is, among other things that a mother really doesn’t want to hear from her son in that level of detail.”

 

“Oh? Like what?” Ryou grinned, ignoring Matt’s desperate pleas of ‘mom no please stop’.

 

“Among other things, and I quote, ‘Shit, he’s bilingual, I think I have a language kink.’ End quote.”

 

There was a loud thunk as Shiro’s head hit the table and a groan as Matt slid down in his chair, both of them looking very much as though they would like the floor to open up and swallow them whole. Wheezing with laughter and shaking her head, Pidge finally took pity on them once she managed to catch her breath. “Seriously, though, we’re glad you guys are happy.” She told them, getting up and heading for the dispenser to fill a couple more plates with goo. She’d known how her brother felt about Shiro for a long time, and she’d been damn near certain that Shiro felt the same way. After Kerberos...well, at least they’d gotten another chance at happiness, despite everything. “You guys deserve it.”

 

Shiro smiled weakly at her as he took the first plate from her, passing it over to Matt before accepting the other. “Thank you, Pidge.” 

 

She nodded and went to sit back down. For a few minutes there was only the sound of spoons scraping plates and goo being chewed. Colleen and Ryou finally deigned to try it, wearing near-identical expressions of uncertainty and consternation. She remembered her teammates making similar faces when they’d first tried it and giggled. At least the new rations they’d gotten from the Icebringers had more substance to them than the Altean ones.

 

“So.” Shiro spoke up between spoonfuls, drawing her attention back to him. “Did anything else come up after we...ah...left...that I should know about?” He looked chagrined as he referenced his outburst the previous evening, but she took that as a good sign that Matt had managed to get him to talk out whatever was bugging him. He definitely seemed a lot more relaxed, anyway.

 

“Um...yeah, actually.” Hesitating, Pidge stirred her goo in circles as she tried to organize her thoughts. She hadn’t expected to be the one to drop those particular bombshells on the black paladin, even if her odds had gone up with half the team out of the Castle today. Man, Lance and Hunk were lucky they didn’t have to deal with this. She could feel four pairs of eyes on her and grimaced. There really wasn’t any tactful way to do this. Best to just be blunt. “So, um, you know that Galra you guys brought back from the Weblum’s Breath? Kovirak?” 

 

She looked up at Shiro and he nodded, looking concerned. “What about her?”

 

Pidge took a deep breath. “Turns out she’s Keith’s mom.”

 

There was a loud clatter as Matt dropped his spoon and Shiro’s jaw fell open in shock. “His mother?” He repeated, looking dazed. “The one who disappeared on him when he was three?”

 

“Mhm. She said something about leading soldiers away from the area before she left the planet so they wouldn’t find out about Keith or his dad. It’s why she vanished so suddenly.”

 

Now Colleen perked up, shooting Ryou a startled look over Pidge’s head. “That sounds like...Keith’s what, nineteen now? Sixteen years ago.” Seeing her daughter’s baffled look, she shook her head. “I think we might have the Garrison’s log of the incident. It was in the files I hacked when I was looking for information about what happened to you. It happened near here?”

 

It was Pidge’s turn to be startled, outrage bubbling up in her chest on Keith’s behalf. How many lives had the damn Garrison screwed up over the years? “I think so? She mentioned her mate’s home had been near here. She asked us for help finding her mate and cub when they weren’t there.”

 

“And instead found herself looking her cub in the face--twice.” Matt chuckled, shaking his head. “That must’ve been a shock for her, coming back to find two of him. And Keith and Kurogane must be over the moon.” Her wince must’ve shown in her face, because his smile fell and he leaned forward a bit. “Katie?”

 

“Keith just kinda seemed in shock when Allura shooed us out last night.” She said, choosing her words with care. “And Kurogane is...pretty pissed, to put it mildly.”

 

Shiro exchanged alarmed glances with Matt. “Pissed?”

 

She nodded, biting her lip. She still hadn’t made up her own mind about her feelings on this particular issue. ‘Cool motive, still betrayal’ didn’t quite seem to cut it when it was her friends’ lives on the line. “It turns out she’s also the traitor in the Blade. But she did it because Haggar was threatening to go to Earth and kill Keith.”

 

A stunned silence followed that particular revelation. She could practically hear Shiro’s brain stutter, bluescreen, and reboot as he tried to process that.

 

Finally he sighed, putting his head in his hands. “Yeah, okay, that’s fair. Given what happened in the other timeline…” Pidge felt a surge of guilt sitting heavy in her chest. The relaxed happiness from when he’d arrived was quickly disappearing, replaced by a wearier leader-dealing-with-a-problem look. And now she had to make it worse.

 

“Not just the other timeline. We finally heard back from Kolivan.” She interrupted quietly. “Allura told us all at breakfast. They went after the Blades at the same time as the Weblum’s Breath attacked Earth, just like last time.”

 

Shiro sucked in a sharp breath, while Matt uttered a quiet curse beside him. “How bad is it?” The black paladin asked after a moment.

 

She poked at her food, not looking at him. “About a third of the undercover Blades haven’t reported in as of when he sent the message. And half their outposts were wiped out before they could be evacuated. A lot of others had to fight their way out, I think.” Not nearly as bad as the previous timeline, thank god, but still too damn deadly. Allura’s lips had been tightened to a thin line when she informed them all that their next stop once they left Earth would be Blade headquarters. Kovirak hadn’t uttered a word, accepting the pronouncement with a single small nod. And Kurogane had left the table not long after, while Keith hadn’t said a word since.

 

Letting out a slow breath, Shiro sat back in his chair and closed his eyes. “Where are Keith and Kurogane now? I should probably talk to them.”

 

“Kurogane and Alejandro went to Cuba with Lance. Dunno when they’ll be back, but probably not until at least tomorrow. Keith’s training, I think. Punching his emotions into the gladiators like he always does when he doesn’t know what else to do with them.” Although in this case she couldn’t blame him. If it was her, she’d probably want to punch something too. She sighed and leaned against her mom’s shoulder.

 

“Alright. Thank you.” Shiro grimaced and gave Matt an apologetic smile. “Sorry Matt. Duty calls.”

 

Matt chuckled and waved it off. “That’s what happens when you have little siblings. Don’t worry about it. I was gonna take Mom, and Ryou if he wants, over to the Long Wind and introduce them to some people.” He leaned in to steal a quick kiss. “Good luck with Keith.”

 

Shiro groaned as he got to his feet. “Thanks. I think I’m gonna need it.”

 

______

 

The crash of a gladiator hitting the floor was audible even through the thick metal door of the training room, and Shiro sighed. Seemed as though Pidge was right about how Keith was dealing with his emotions toward the situation. Stepping through the door, he started to call Keith’s name only to break off mid-syllable, his eyes widening as he took in the scene.

 

Keith was ringed by three unarmed gladiators, their armor cracked and battered but not damaged enough to deactivate yet. The paladin himself was breathing hard, blood trickling from a split lip and coating torn knuckles. Dressed in casual clothes instead of his armor, his bayard were nowhere to be seen, fists raised defensively in front of him as he shifted, wild eyes flicking left and right to keep an eye on his opponents.

 

Alarm curdled in Shiro’s gut. He’d seen this sort of thing too many times before. It went well beyond merely trying to vent out his emotions. This was a Keith who was overwhelmed and pulled in a dozen different directions inside, past being unable to cope, picking a fight he couldn’t win as though hitting and being hit would help. Back at the Garrison those would have been other students, or maybe teenage thugs in town surrounding him, ending in bruises and cracked ribs and a silent, withdrawn Keith who didn’t utter a word for days. And while the gladiators had automatic safety shut-offs, they could still do more than enough damage to suit the teenager’s needs. The tense weeks following the Trials of Marmora had proved that.

 

One of the gladiators shifted its weight, foot lifting for what promised to be a brutal kick. Shiro didn’t give it a chance to land. “End training sequence!” He barked, already moving. The droids froze, flickered, vanished, and Keith whirled to face him, outrage and distress tangling across his face.

 

“Shiro! What are you doing?! I was--”

 

Shiro didn’t let him finish. He didn't bother trying to talk, not while Keith was so keyed up. Instead he went for the one other thing that seemed to help when the younger male was like this, wrapping his arms around him and enfolding him tight in a hug just short of bone-crushing. Keith struggled for a moment, and Shiro could feel the tension in every muscle, springs wound too tight and ready to burst apart like shrapnel. Then he stopped, leaning into Shiro’s chest and letting his brother envelope him fully in the embrace, Keith’s head tucked under his chin and shuddering breaths tickling his neck. He seemed to take forever to relax, the tension uncoiling half an inch at a time, but Shiro stayed put. He’d do this as long as Keith needed him to.

 

Only once the younger was almost boneless against his chest did he ease up his grip. Keith allowed himself to be steered over to one wall, where a first-aid kit was stored in case of minor training accidents, and settled down onto the floor without complaint. Shiro sat in front of him, wordlessly pulling out gauze and disinfectant before peeling off one of Keith’s gloves as delicately as he could manage.

 

Aside from a few winces, Keith held still, allowing him to clean and bandage his bleeding knuckles and split lip. There were bruises forming on his jaw, and probably more under his clothes, but there wasn’t much Shiro could do about those. “Anything else need the kit?” He asked, helping Keith put his gloves back on over the bandages.

 

“No.” Keith’s voice was a hoarse whisper, but talking was a good sign. Shiro nodded and packed the kit away again, shifting to sit beside Keith and put an arm around his shoulders.

 

“Pidge told me about Kovirak.” He began, and felt Keith stiffen again under his arm, He squeezed the younger boy’s arm in a comforting gesture. “You don’t have to talk right now if you don’t want to. I was just letting you know that I know what’s going on.”

 

Keith subsided, leaning against Shiro’s shoulder and huffing out a soft breath. “I don’t know what to say. Hell, I don’t know what to  _ feel _ .”

 

Shiro hummed. “I can imagine. After what Pidge told me...heck, I don’t even know what to feel about this whole mess, and I’m not even directly part of it the way you are. I can’t even begin to imagine what it must be like for you and Kurogane.”

 

“Kurogane’s already made up his mind. He hates her.” The younger male sighed, tugging at the edges of his gloves. “I almost wish it were that easy for me.”

 

“I don’t think it’s as simple as all that for him under the surface, Keith. She’s still your mother, and his too. I doubt he’s forgotten all those questions you had for her.” He didn’t know what most of those questions were. At the time the topic had come up his bond with Keith was still too new and too fragile for Shiro to be willing to risk probing for more information than the teen was willing to give on such a delicate topic. Even the admission that he missed his mother had been progress towards getting through Keith’s walls, and he’d respectfully left the vulnerability be. 

 

“Yeah…” Keith fell silent again. Shiro didn’t push. Trying to force the other to open up would only make things worse. He needed support, not an interrogation.

 

He felt the other shift under his arm, tucking his knees to his chest. “Shiro...I don’t know what to do. I’m happy, but I’m also angry. And I feel bad for being happy and for being angry?” Keith’s breath hitched and he buried his fingers in his hair. “And I think there’s more but it’s all so mixed up it hurts and I don’t know…”

 

The tension was coming back and Shiro turned, pulling Keith against his chest and hugging him tight again. The position was awkward but it seemed to help, Keith leaning into him and closing his eyes as he drew in a shuddering breath. That was a lot. No wonder Keith had been overwhelmed to the point of picking gang-fights with the gladiators again.

 

“Alright. Let’s take this one thing at a time, okay?” He stroked his little brother’s hair soothingly with one hand. “Let’s start with why you’re happy. Can you put it into words?”

 

A momentary hesitation, then a small nod under his hand. “I found my mom. She didn’t abandon me. She was trying to protect me. She’s been protecting me this whole time. She tried to find me when she came back.” Another small pause, then, voice breaking just a little, “She  _ loves _ me.”

 

“Oh Keith.” Shiro sighed, placing a kiss on top of the other’s messy hair. “Of course she does. You’re her kid.” How many other families had Keith watched go by over the years, parents showing their love to their kids in a thousand small ways, and craved the same thing, so blatantly absent in his own life? Shiro tried to give him the attention he’d been deprived of, but a parent’s affection was something special that could never be replaced. Shiro himself knew that all too well. His aunts and uncle had tried their best, but it was still never quite the same.

 

“And at the same time, I’m mad as hell because she loves me but she wasn’t  _ there _ . She wasn’t there when Dad died and I got shoved into foster care, and she wasn’t there any of the times I had to call cops or grab my bug-out bag and just  _ go _ .” A fist pounded into the floor and Shiro grabbed Keith’s hand, keeping him from doing himself more damage, heart aching for the battered teen. “I went through so much shit because she wasn’t there and her coming back now doesn’t take it all away.”

 

Rubbing a thumb over Keith’s bandaged knuckles, Shiro nodded solemnly. “No, it doesn’t. You have every right to be pissed at her for that, as well as to be happy that she’s here. It’s a complicated situation. Makes sense for your feelings about it to be complicated too.”

 

Keith groaned, throwing his other hand up in a frustrated gesture. “‘Complicated’ doesn’t do it justice, Shiro! People died because of her! A lot of people! In both timelines! People who are our allies, who’ve been fighting the Galra Empire for their entire lives, and she betrayed them. I should hate her!”

 

“But you don’t.” Shiro observed, noting the catch in the younger’s voice.

 

Sagging, Keith rested his elbows on his knees and shook his head. “I don’t.” He whispered. “She sacrificed all those lives to try to protect me.” He lifted his head a little, swiping at his nose with the back of his hand, and from this angle Shiro could see his eyes were shining. “‘I’m a mother and my cub will always come first.’ That’s what she said.”

 

_ Oh. _ Shiro found himself feeling torn. On the one hand, god, Keith definitely deserved a mother who loved him wholeheartedly after all the crap he’d been through. And it certainly sounded as if Kovirak was exactly that. But on the other hand, where did you draw the line when it came to doing anything for your child? “She didn’t have any other options?” He asked, trying to keep his tone non-judgemental despite the fear sitting heavy in his chest. If she had and betrayed them anyway...but Keith would’ve been a lot angrier in that case. He hoped.

 

“No.” A sharp jerk of Keith’s head confirmed that suspicion, relief soothing the worry in Shiro’s gut. “I don’t think so, anyway. Haggar was blackmailing her by threatening to track me down and kill me. She couldn’t refuse and she couldn’t run. What else could she do?”

 

“I don’t know.” Shiro admitted, leaning his head against Keith’s. He might even have done the same in her situation, for someone he cared about. Heaving a sigh, he studied the far wall as if it might contain answers to all their problems. “The real question is, what are you going to do? What do you want from her right now.”

 

Keith fidgeted with his gloves again. “I, uh...I asked her to stay.” He sounded small, like he was expecting to be in trouble for doing something like that without clearing it with anyone else, and Shiro felt a pang of guilt. He didn’t want Keith thinking that way. Not with him, especially. The younger was clearly nervous. “I asked her not to leave again.”

 

“Okay.” He managed to make his tone easier than he felt, and was rewarded by Keith relaxing again under his arm. “We’ll have to keep an eye on her, just to be safe, but it doesn’t sound like she’s going to make trouble for us. And I can’t promise she won’t have to leave once we go talk to the Blades again after we leave Earth, but for now it should be okay. She can stay, and you guys can get to know each other again.”

 

A sudden shift under his arm was all the warning he had before Keith’s arms were around his middle in an awkward hug. He let out a soft noise of surprise, then chuckled, wrapping his own arms around the other’s shoulders in return. It wasn’t often that Keith initiated physical affection like this, but it was a hell of a lot better than him busting his knuckles on gladiators. The problem was a long way from solved, for Keith or for Kurogane, with everything that had happened. But for now, at least they could try to focus on the future. The past would come later.

 

_______

 

It was one thing to know that aliens had to exist somewhere out there simply because it was too damn statistically improbable for Earth to be the only life-bearing planet in the whole vast universe. It was another to uncover proof that aliens not only existed, but had been to the Solar system and even Earth, and the fucking government was lying about it the whole time.

 

It was something else entirely to be face-to-face with something that looked like a six-legged, four-eyed cross between a snow leopard and a polar bear but even bigger, conversing with her son in a language that sounded like ten tigers singing a cappella, while her son glibly growled and snarled right back to, according to the translations she was hearing courtesy of Katie’s paladin armor, catch up on the local gossip.

 

“...all it took was one of them getting blown up?” Matt rolled his eyes in exasperation. “That figures. Who won the pool, then?”

 

“Tolna-Tchet in data analysis.” The other replied with a snort of laughter. “As usual. I don’t know how she does it.”

 

Matt heaved a long-suffering sigh. “Neither do I. I really should learn to just place my bets with hers, y’know.?”

 

The alien’s massive head bobbed in a nod of agreement. “Two bets in two days. It will be a while before she has to take a turn at laundry or cleaning duties again.”

 

“Two?” Matt blinked. “What was the other one?”

 

Four dark eyes pinned her son with a knowing stare, and despite the wildly different facial structure Colleen got the distinct impression the being was smirking at him. Apparently Katie thought so too, because she started giggling into her hand.

 

And then, erasing any doubts, one eye closed in an unmistakable  _ wink _ .

 

Matt choked, spluttered, and turned bright red. “OkaythankyouverymuchfortheupdateIneedtogointroducemymomtosomeotherpeoplenowGoodhunting!” He blurted. Colleen found herself being dragged down the hallway alongside her daughter as fast as Matt’s bad leg would allow, with Ryou following after them laughing his head off and the alien’s rumbling laughter chasing them down the corridor.

 

The H’ress, as Matt identified the species to her afterward, along with a name composed of a long string of pitched consonants that she couldn’t begin to remember, let alone reproduce, ended up being only the first of many to comment on the progress of Matt and Takashi’s relationship. As they made their way through the ship, she watched as her son was greeted warmly by aliens of all shapes and sizes, and subjected to quite a bit of affectionate teasing as well as sincere congratulations. While many of them said hello to Katie as well, and were pleased to meet herself and Ryou, there was an easy camaraderie between them and Matt, as though he were no different from any of them.

 

“He’s part of the family here.” She murmured to Ryou, watching as her son knelt to chat with a cluster of children, green-skinned and wide-eyed.

 

Ryou nodded. “You noticed too? They treat him like one of their own.”

 

“He  _ is _ one of their own, mom.” Apparently Colleen hadn’t been quiet enough, Katie moving closer to weigh in on the discussion. “He’s spent almost a year and a half with them, on this ship and on another one before it. And all that time he didn’t think he would ever get home, so...he made  _ this _ his home.”

 

Stunned, Colleen lifted her head and regarded her son again. A larger, seemingly older alien of the same type as the children had appeared and was chatting with Matt, who laughed at something being said. He had told her so little so far of his time since being taken by the Galra, before being reunited with Takashi and Katie, and she hadn’t been about to push. The scars had been enough to tell her that much of the story wasn’t going to be pleasant for her to hear or him to tell. But there was more to his story than the scars, apparently. Another home, another family that he had forged for himself out among the stars.

 

He was happy here, she realized, watching him waving goodbye to the group as the taller being chivvied its brood away down the corridor. Someone else shouted a greeting in passing and Matt shouted back as he limped back over to her, an easy smile on his face. An odd sense of relief filled her. If he couldn’t have been safe in her arms, at least there’d been others who cared about him to take her place.

 

“Come on, we’re almost at the main control room. Shiiar’keh should be there.” He grinned at her.

 

Colleen answered his smile with one of her own and let him lead them onwards.

 

Shiiar’keh turned out to be another H’ress, this one with dyed patterns in the fur of their back that put her in mind of the northern lights. Various technicians and specialists manned consoles or moved in and out of the room around them, consulting with the pack leader or providing updates on various projects. Matt waited while a large reptilian alien that almost looked as though it could have been descended from a velociraptor finished reporting on the status of some repairs before stepping forward. “Good trading, Pack Leader. Hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

 

“Good trading, Matthew. It’s good to see you aboard again.” Shiiar’keh rumbled in greeting. “And not at all. I was just checking in to make sure everything was under control and progressing smoothly up here.” They lifted their head, and Colleen felt their dark eyes fix on her for a moment. “New faces?”

 

Matt nodded. “I wanted to introduce my mother, Colleen Holt, and Takashi’s older brother, Ryou Shirogane. They came aboard the Castle yesterday. Mom, Ryou, this is the Pack Leader of the Long Wind, Shiiar’keh.”

 

“Good trading, Colleen, Ryou.” To her surprise, the alien put out a hand to shake. It took her a moment to figure out how to line her hand up with theirs, since it had an extra thumb on the opposite side and intimidatingly sharp claws, but the handshake itself seemed to come naturally enough to the other being. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet the last of Matthew’s family.”

 

“Um, thank you. Uh...lovely ship you have here.” She felt her cheeks burning, and knew she sounded like an idiot. How did you make small-talk with your son’s very alien superior?

 

Fortunately, Shiiar’keh didn’t seem bothered by her awkwardness, making a soft huffing noise. “It is much nicer when it’s not in the middle of being extensively repaired from battle damage. Which reminds me, Matthew, is there any chance we would be able to trade for scrap metals here on Earth to supply the fabricators? We were already running low on most of the ships after the battle at Trepan Kev and reclaiming the raw elements of the Sliding Snow will only provide enough materials for the most crucial repairs.”

 

Matt blinked, humming thoughtfully. “I don’t see why not, but I better run it past the Garrison. I’m sure Iverson can arrange something for us. Let me go contact them.” He moved away from them to a console manned by an alien of the same species as Allura and Coran, exchanging warm greetings as the Altean vacated the chair for her son.

 

Colleen watched him go. He fit in easily amongst these aliens. Not just a home. He’d managed to make a life for himself here. “Thank you for taking care of him.” The words left her almost before she realized she’d spoken, and Shiiar’keh followed her gaze.

 

“He’s a valued member of the pack, Colleen. The pack takes care of its own.” They answered softly. “I’m just sorry we couldn’t bring him home to you sooner, for his sake and yours.”

 

Colleen let out a slow breath. “Katie mentioned he didn’t know how to get home, so he tried to settle in here.” Beside them, Katie nodded quietly. She’d been hovering close enough to include her mother in her suit’s translator’s area of effect but not intruding on the conversation. She’d been watching her brother as closely as Colleen had.

 

Shiiar’keh nodded. “I won’t deny it was hard for him. He only joined the Long Wind pack after the destruction of the Boiling Rock, so I don’t know his early time with the Icebringers. But to be separated entirely from any of his own species, most likely for the rest of his life...I know it must have been more difficult than he ever admitted to anyone but himself. Your son is very strong, Colleen, and we are lucky to have him. Many would not have endured in the face of such losses. But he accepted them and devoted himself to the pack instead. There are many here and on other ships and even on Sh’ra H’ressnol who owe their lives to him both as a doctor and as a strategist.” Colleen was surprised by the obvious respect in the pack leader’s voice as they offered her a glimpse into her son’s missing years that made her heart ache in her chest. He’d endured so much pain, things that she could never even imagine experiencing, and come out of it still able to smile so freely.

 

“He’s always been strong, and brave.” Colleen agreed quietly. Across the room, Matt was resting his elbows on the console, apparently deep in discussion with someone at the Garrison while the Altean leaned over his shoulder, listening in apparent fascination. The Icebringers didn’t use translator tech, she’d been told, so English would have been no use to him. No wonder he was so proficient in the various languages used here. Even as she watched Matt covered the microphone, making a comment to the other in a language that was neither English nor the growls and snarls of H’ress’wr. How much had he learned out of sheer necessity? “And brilliant. He gets that from his father.” she swallowed down the lump in her throat. Sam would never see all that his son and daughter had achieved.

 

“Very much so.” Shiiar’keh agreed. “We value him greatly for his skills, and also as part of the pack.”

 

“He’s got many friends here?

 

“Well-known, well-respected, and well-liked. Everyone was ecstatic for him when he was reunited with his sister and Takashi after we allied ourselves with Voltron. They’ll be happier still knowing he’s found his way back to you as well.”

 

Colleen considered that, watching Matt break off the connection and pass the chair back to the comm specialist. “I’m glad. If he couldn’t come home, I’m glad he wasn’t alone. Thank you.”

 

“The Long Wind and the Icebringers will always have a place for him, no matter where life takes him.” The pack leader promised, then turned his attention to Matt as he limped back over to them with a pleased smile. “Good hunting?”

 

“Great hunting.” Matt told them smugly. “Iverson’s gonna see about arranging for junk cars to be shipped here from the Phoenix landfill. Lots of iron, carbon, and aluminum. Not really suitable for outer hull repairs, but we can use the scrap from the Sliding Snow for those and use the other stuff for interior rebuilding. Some of it will need to be replaced later once we can get the right materials, but it’ll make the ships functional for the time being. He said if there’s something specific we need to let him know and he’ll see what he can find.”

 

Shiiar’keh let out a pleased rumble. “Thank you. I’ll need you to be our primary point of contact for things like that, for obvious reasons. But I won’t take up more of your time right now. Good hunting Matthew, Colleen, Ryou, Katie.”

 

Matt gave a respectful nod “Can do. Good hunting, Shiiar’keh.” With a wave of farewell, he turned and headed for the door. “Come on, Mom,” he gave her a cheerful smile that she couldn’t help but return, “Xel will skin me if I don’t introduce you to her next.”


	42. Chapter 42

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: Some negative self-image and negative thought stuff in this chapter. If that might be triggering for you, please proceed with caution starting with "Hours later, Lance lay staring at the darkened ceiling of his room" and going until the end of the chapter, especially Keith's POV section at the very end. If you need to skip over that part of the chapter and would like a summary of what happened, please don't be afraid to ask!
> 
> Next chapter might take a while because we're moving at the end of the month and still need to pack up the apartment, so that'll probably eat up a lot of free time over the next couple of weeks. But I'll write when I can.
> 
> Enjoy!

Lance grinned as an awed hush fell over the cockpit, Blue’s amusement in his head echoing his own as his family gaped out the viewscreens at the alien spaceships. Not that he could blame them. The nearby black threads of the Garrison’s runways were dwarfed into insignificance beside the incredible bulk of the Icebringer ships and the smaller Castle of Lions. It was an awesome sight, and they hadn’t even landed yet.

 

He took Blue down in a slowly descending spiral, passing close enough to one of the ships to clearly see the teams of aliens hard at work installing layers of metal plates to close a gash in the hull. One of them looked up and waved as the lion went by, and Lance chuckled as Lur excitedly waved back. “They can’t see you, sweetness. They’re just waving at the lion.”

 

Lur pouted, and Fernan bounced excitedly on the spot. “How do they stay up? I don’t see any ropes!”

 

“Anti-gravity platforms. See where they’re standing?” Lance grinned and made another slow pass, pointing out the sturdy maintenance platforms supporting the workers. “We have some on the Castle too. Use them for doing maintenance on the lions.”

 

“I guess you’d have to, they’re so big.” Leandro commented. He shook his head admiringly. “Is everything in space huge?”

 

Lance burst out laughing. “To hear Pidge tell it? Absolutely. But she’s a tiny little gremlin. Always will be I think.” He heard a choked laugh from Alejandro in the back and grinned. “But no, not everything. Some of the aliens we’ve met are pretty small, like the Arusians and the Tirmants. And just wait until you meet the space mice!”

 

“Can’t wait, sweetheart.” His mom squeezed his shoulder and looked out at the Castle of Lions gleaming in the afternoon sun as Blue swooped in toward her hangar.

 

______

 

The hallways of the Castle were a riot of noise and movement, busier than they’d been in ten thousand years. Hunk’s little sister and Lance and Alejandro’s younger siblings played tag and chased the space mice up and down the halls while parents and older siblings were guided around the ship on an energetic tour and compared notes on who’d been told what by who and four mothers fussed over any space traveller they could get their hand on, regardless of age or species.

 

Watching a blushing Lance and Alejandro glowing under the praise as La’ei and Fetuilelagi Garret thanked them effusively for taking good care of their respective versions of Hunk, while Rosa McClain-Martinez agreed enthusiastically about her sons’ kind hearts, Kurogane abruptly decided it was all too much for him to endure another moment of and slipped away.

 

He managed to find an emptier section of the ship and heaved a sigh of relief at the quiet. Being around so many other Human beings, ones who weren’t the familiar faces that he’d spent the last several years surrounded by, felt strange and left an uncomfortable weight in his chest. It hadn’t been so bad the night before, in the crowded house at Varadero Beach with all of Lance and Alejandro’s cousins and aunts and uncles and siblings. But now they were back on the Castle with Lance’s family talking to Hunk’s parents and to Pidge’s mom, and the urge to get away had become inescapable.

 

Pushing the memory of the scene aside, Kurogane continued down the hall, hoping that walking would burn off some of his restless energy. He paused as he glimpsed Coran leaving a room up ahead, giving him time to move further away before resuming his walk. Approaching the door the Altean had exited, he was surprised to hear Shiro’s voice and peered around the doorframe.

 

Shiro was seated on the edge of a bed, Ryou beside him and leaning on his younger cousin’s shoulder to grin at the tablet clutched in the younger’s shaking hands. As Kurogane watched the black paladin sniffed and rubbed at suspiciously bright eyes with the back of his hand. A muffled voice issued from the tablet’s speaker and Shiro cracked a watery grin. “No, aunt Minako, I’m okay. It’s just…” He let out a slow breath, his smile becoming something softer and sadder. “...it’s just really good to talk to you again. I missed you.”

 

His family. Shiro was talking to Ryou’s parents, the ones who had raised Shiro for much of his life and were, along with Ryou himself, the closest blood family he had.

 

Something in Kurogane’s gut twisted painfully and he slipped past the door before he could hear anything else. His hands shook and he wrapped his arms around himself, resisting the urge to punch a wall. Alejandro would worry if he showed up later with bloody knuckles.

 

Pacing aimlessly through the less-travelled areas of the ship, he found himself in one of the outer corridors, looking down over the desert. This window faced south, past the Icebringer ships and out toward the open, barren land beyond. His old home wasn’t visible from here, obscured by rock spires and the slow rolling swells of the land, but it was out there. Strange to think about, that everything he’d seen destroyed years ago was here again, right under his feet.

 

More muffled voices up ahead. Approaching cautiously, he stopped outside the doors of another of the multi-purpose lounges that littered the Castle. Inside he could hear Keith, asking a question. “So how exactly did you and dad meet?”

 

A soft laugh, and Kurogane’s heart seemed to stop in his chest. “Oh god. Determined to ruin my dignity right off the bat, aren’t you, kit? It’s a bit of a story, and rather embarrassing for me, considering all my training. I’m just lucky it was Thomas who found me and not someone else.” A fond sigh, and a brief pause. “Basically, a lot of my supplies were ruined when I crashed, so I was getting desperate for food. After some searching, I managed to locate an isolated dwelling with a large cage of what I later learned were called chickens…”

 

Kurogane found himself frozen against the wall. A part of himself wanted to rip himself away from the hard surface at his back, sprint down the hallways until he was as far away from this room as he could possibly get, run until he was too exhausted to even think. But another part of him was captivated, unable to do anything but focus on Kovirak’s words as she recounted things he’d never known, things he’d always wondered about but never had anyone to ask.

 

Only once she wrapped up her story with Thomas Kogane guiding her into his home and tending her injuries after cutting her clothes free of a barbed wire fence, the first encounter that would lead to a long, loving relationship and a mixed-species son, did he realize he’d slid down the wall to sit on the floor outside the lounge. His chest ached painfully, his vision was blurred. When he touched his face he found his fingertips came away wet.

 

Why was he crying?

 

Muffled laughter inside the room, Keith asking another question that he couldn’t quite make out over the buzzing in his ears. And yet Kovirak’s voice came through clearly. “No, I didn’t have a working translator. We made do with a lot of charades at first, until we started picking up more of each other’s languages. He picked up Galran surprisingly well…”

 

Outside, Kurogane remained where he sat, closing his eyes and listening to his mother’s voice as tears slid down his cheeks.

 

_______

 

“Oh my god. This food is fucking incredible. La’ei, Fetuilelagi, I’m stealing your son so he can come cook for me forever.”

 

“Not if I get him first, Colleen.”

 

“Rosa, I will fucking  _ fight _ you for him. If he hadn’t told me one of the main ingredients was that goo we ate yesterday, I’d never have guessed. Hell, I still don’t know if I believe it.”

 

Hunk blushed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Guys, come on. Mom and Mama helped too.”

 

Fetuilelagi snorted around a forkful of food. “Hardly. We just followed directions. You’re the one who devised the recipes for all those alien ingredients.” She looked distinctly pleased at the praise her son was receiving.

 

“Mom…” Hunk looked even more flustered and busied himself with his dinner, while Rosa and Colleen engaged in a mock swordfight with their forks and Leandro and Matt exchanged mortified glances down the table.

 

Lance chuckled and savoured another bite of his own dinner, something flavourful he didn’t know the name of. Hunk had apparently brought his entire spice rack with him when he came back, and oh god, did it show. His and Pidge’s moms weren’t the only one heaping praise on the flustered teen. Plenty of aliens used spices, but the taste was never 100% the same, so the familiarity was as welcome as the taste. This time they’d make sure they brought plenty with them when they left, although he didn’t doubt Hunk had already thought of that.

 

The buzz of chatter in the crowded dining room was also a reassuring similarity to home, a dozen different conversations at once going on on every side of him over the clatter of cutlery. Usually he’d have been in the thick of it himself, talking around his food until his mama scolded him, but right now he was content to just eat and listen. Having both of his families around him...he couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this happy, this at peace.

 

Too bad it couldn’t last. Lance knew all too well their time here would be limited. They still had to stop Zarkon, Haggar, and Lotor and end the Galra Empire’s reign of tyranny. They would only stay on Earth long enough to repair the main Icebringer ships and set up some defenses on Earth and the moon that would buy a little time if the Galra came back, and then they’d be off into space again for who-knew-how-long. He sighed, some of his mood deflating.

 

As if to underscore his line of thought, Coran rose to his feet and cleared his throat as they were wrapping up dessert. “My apologies, Ms. McClain, I know it’s getting late, but I was wondering if I might borrow Lance and Alejandro for half a varga or so.”

 

Rosa simply raised a curious eyebrow and nodded, while Lance exchanged uncertain looks across the table with his older counterpart. What could Coran need to talk about with just the two of them? Some of the other paladins were directing confused looks at the three of them as well, and Lance gave them a helpless shrug to tell them he had no idea either.

 

At a gesture from the Altean they followed him silently out of the room and down the corridor. To their surprise, though, he didn’t lead them to the bridge, or to any of the lounges. Instead he guided them deeper into the Castle, until they found themselves unexpectedly outside a familiar set of metal doors.

 

“The holoprojection chamber?” Alejandro blurted out, looking as confused as Lance felt. As far as he knew, none of them had been down here since the destruction of King Alfor’s uploaded AI.

 

Coran nodded, palming the door open. “Yes. I need to speak with you both, and also show you something.” As the door slid open, he gestured for them to precede him in to the empty chamber.

 

The vast, dimly-lit room felt eerie and cold, and Lance shivered. It made him think of a tomb, especially given what had happened last time they were here. Alejandro seemed less bothered, but then the memory was even longer ago for him, not to mention he’d seen far, far worse. Lance folded his arms across his chest, shifting from foot to foot. “So, what’s all this about?”

 

The old Altean sighed, leaning back against the console and folding his hands in front of him. He looked troubled, and sad, an unusual expression to see on the man’s usually cheerful face. “My boys...I owe you both my deepest apologies.” There was a pause, as he seemed to try to collect his thoughts. “I had...some suspicions...about the nature of the personality trait aspect of blue quintessence, but I did not tell you. I should have. And for that I am sorry.”

 

Lance gaped at Coran. “You knew?! You knew that the blue aspect was this...this messed up  _ mind control _ ability and you didn’t tell us?!” The Altean had always tried to make sure they all had whatever information they needed to cope with the situations they found themselves in, so to hear him admit to hiding something like  _ that _ from them was a sudden stinging betrayal.

 

“No. I said I had suspicions, that the blue aspect was some sort of ability that you both would likely find unsavoury.” Coran explained firmly. Holding up a hand to forestall further questions, he turned and touched a button on the console. All around them, a projection shimmered to life, solidifying into one of the Castle’s hallways with a younger Coran caught mid-stride with an armload of papers.

 

Their own Coran, seeing the puzzled frowns Lance exchanged with Alejandro, gestured to the projection. “After you all began working on unlocking the aspects, I extracted a copy of my memories and began searching them, in the hopes of finding useful information about the aspects that Alfor or one of the other paladins may have made mention of in my presence that I do not consciously recall. It’s slow going, and rest assured, if I’d uncovered anything specific I would have informed you all.” He sighed. “In this case, however, I had only an overheard conversation to go by, the meaning of which has only become clear to me after the fact. I wish to show that memory to you now, as I should have done much earlier.” With that, he pressed another button on the console and the younger Coran in the projection began to move.

 

Lance watched him walk down the corridor and hesitate outside the closed lounge doors at the sound of raised voices within. He recognized Alfor’s voice, and the lower, booming voice must be Zarkon. The female voice was oddly familiar, although he wasn’t sure why. It was sharp and cold and made him feel oddly afraid, even before she callously dismissed the importance of other lives against that of the paladins. He shuddered and hugged himself. How could she be so...so... _ uncaring _ ?

 

When the playback ended, it left a heavy silence echoing in the empty chamber. After several seconds Alejandro ducked his head and exhaled slowly. “Yeah. Okay. There’s no way you could have known from that.”

 

Coran’s lips quirked in a faint, wry smile. “Regardless, I should have shown you both sooner. Even knowing that the ability could potentially be an unpleasant one, or be capable of being used in an unpleasant manner, would have cushioned the shock. Again, I apologize.”

 

“It’s fine. You’re forgiven.” Alejandro waved off the apology. “Hindsight is...what was the saying again?” He flushed, looking at Lance with a desperate expression.

 

“20/20.” Lance supplied, lost in thought and not paying attention as his older self thanked him and started explaining the saying to Coran. His brow furrowed in a frown. Why did he feel like he knew that woman’s voice, with all its cold indifference to forcing someone to die?

 

_ “Finish him.” _

 

His head snapped up with a sharp inhalation, dread sitting like a lump of ice in his stomach. “Coran.” He interrupted. “In that memory, whose voices were those?”

 

“Hmm?” The Altean looked over at him in mild surprise. “Alfor, of course, Zarkon, and Acalli.”

 

Alejandro hissed at the name. “The first blue paladin.” He clarified. “And King Alfor’s sister. I was told she sided with Zarkon.”

 

“I know her voice.” Lance whispered, drawing a stunned silence from the other two. “I don’t know how, but I swear I’ve heard her voice before.” He thought for a moment, then grimaced. “Coran, can you show us what she looked like?” Maybe he would recognize her once he saw her face. As the Altean nodded and turned away to the console again, he steeled himself, feeling Blue’s anxious touch in his mind. Somehow, he had a feeling he wouldn't like the answer.

 

A moment later, a new hologram activated, an Altean woman standing in front of them. The same tanned skin and straight white hair as Alfor, but with red facial markings and a cold, haughty expression very unlike her brother.

 

Her eyes seemed to bore into Lance, the hologram sneering down at him. Disgusted by the small, fragile alien who had taken her place as the blue paladin.

 

His stomach lurched, the memory slamming back to the forefront of his mind. Orange light. Shiro’s blue-covered eyes. Haggar staring down at him. “ _ Pathetic. To think the blue lion had the temerity to consider you a worthy successor to me.” _

 

Lance staggered back, barely aware of Alejandro putting out a hand to steady him, his breath coming in panicked gasps. Not her. Anyone but her. Bad enough she had the same colour of quintessence as him, could and had used the same abilities he possessed to hurt the people he cared about. But for that...that  _ monster _ to have been Blue’s paladin before him, that he followed where she had once walked…

 

He felt sick. He couldn’t breathe. Alejandro and Coran were talking to him, but he couldn’t hear over the blood rushing in his ears, touching him, but his skin was numb and tingling. Even Blue’s alarm seemed to come from a great distance, as though the bond were stretched and thinned by this sickening revelation.

 

A hand on his cheek, another on his back. Coran and Alejandro, trying to figure out what he’d realized, why acid was clawing at his throat and his lungs had turned to stone.

 

“Haggar.” he choked out, the name tasting like ashes on his tongue. “She’s Haggar.”

 

Then he wrenched himself free from their suddenly-slackened hands and fled.

 

Hours later, Lance lay staring at the darkened ceiling of his room. The lights had dimmed automatically to nighttime levels earlier, and he hadn’t bothered to get up and turn them back up, despite the fact that he knew he wouldn’t be sleeping anytime soon. The dark felt safer, anyway, like hiding. From his shame, from his guilt. From the truth.

 

He lifted his hands, holding them in front of his face and gazing at them in the faint aqua glow of the emergency light marking the door. These hands had gripped the same control columns as Haggar once had, had been clothed in the same armor she had once worn. The thought turned his stomach and he rolled onto his side, closing his eyes and trying to control his breathing. But the thought kept rolling over in his head. Haggar was the first blue paladin. And he, Lance, was her successor. He felt dirty just thinking about it, tainted.

 

A knock at the door jerked him from his thoughts and he pushed himself up on one elbow, frowning. Who could be wanting to see him at this hour? Unless it was Coran or Alejandro, seeking him out to get him to talk now that he’d had some time to calm himself down at least a little. “Come in?” He called uncertainly.

 

A pause, then the door slid open, and Lance blinked. “Keith?” He rolled back over and sat up, surreptitiously checking to make sure no trace of his earlier crying remained. The low light probably would have hid it anyway, but…

 

The red paladin was hovering in the doorway, looking oddly nervous with his arms folded defensively across his chest. “Lance.” He greeted. “I’m sorry if I woke you, I just…” He hesitated, fidgeting with the fabric of his sleeve. “Um, can I talk to you?”

 

“It’s fine, Keith. I wasn’t asleep anyway.” Shifting over toward the head of the bed, Lance gestured to the open space in front of him. “Come on in. Make yourself at home.” He couldn’t for the life of him figure out what Keith would want to talk to him about at this hour, but a distraction, any distraction, was more than welcome right now. He saw the other teen still hesitating in the doorway and waved him in. “What’s up?”

 

Biting his lip, Keith crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed, unfolding his arms to tug at his gloves. “We, uh, never got to finish our talk the other day.”

 

“Talk?” Frowning, Lance searched his memory, trying to figure out what talk Keith was referring to that they hadn’t finished. The two of them hadn’t really had a proper conversation at all the last couple days, since Lance had been busy with his family, first in Cuba and then here on the Castle.

 

Keith nodded. “Before the battle?” He reminded him. “We got cut off when the alarms went off?”

 

His breath caught for a moment and his stomach did a flip. _Oh._ _That_ talk. Bits of the conversation from three days earlier flashed through his mind. Keith’s nervousness, his talk about taking chances while you still could, and then finally, although Lance had tried so hard not to get his hopes up that maybe, just maybe his feelings were mutual after all, it had sounded like he was about to _confess_. “Right, I remember now.” He forced himself to nod, adopting a deceptively casual posture and leaning back on his hands. “Sorry, guess it slipped my mind. It’s been a hectic couple of days since then.”

 

“Tell me about it.” Keith huffed out a breath of laughter, relaxing just a little. He looked down at his hands again. “...I thought I should probably talk to you again sooner than later, though.”

 

“Usually a good idea.” Lance hummed in agreement.

 

Sighing, Keith nodded again. “Like I was saying when we talked before, I’ve been thinking a lot lately about taking chances on the things that are important to you while you have the chance. Especially now, after that last fight…” He shuddered and wrapped his arms around himself. “If Shiro hadn’t been able to…” he trailed off, swallowing hard. Concerned, Lance straightened, putting a reassuring hand on the other teen’s shoulder, and was rewarded with a shaky smile, just barely visible in the low light. “Sorry.”

 

“Don’t be.” Lance smiled back, trying not to let his face show the way that shy smile sent warmth blossoming in his chest. “I know how important Shiro is to you.”

 

Keith shook his head, the smile replaced now with a small frown. “Not  _ just _ Shiro, Lance.” He took a deep breath as though steeling his courage for his next words. “...you’re really important to me, too.”

 

Wow, if his chest had been feeling warm a moment ago, it was definitely boiling now. Lance coughed and hoped desperately that the darkness hid the burning of his cheeks. “That, uh, that goes both ways, buddy.” He stammered out, pressing his bandaged hand to his chest and silently willing his racing heart to calm down. He needed to stop reading so much into this. Just because he was important to Keith didn’t mean the red paladin cared about him as more than a friend or even a sibling. Given the other teen’s rocky past, as well as more recent incidents, he should just be grateful that the other was willing to be this open with him. “You’re important to me too.” He added quickly, because god, wasn’t that the truth.

 

“I know. That means a lot to me.” Another quick flash of a smile before that dark gaze was directed downwards again. “But I don’t think you know just how important you are to me. How much I trust you--”

 

Keith was still talking, but his words had set off a buzz of static in Lance’s ears, a cold weight in his chest burning away the warmth that had been there before. Trust. That one word sent his thoughts lurching right back to the grim, painful revelation from earlier that evening. He didn’t  _ deserve _ Keith’s trust. After everything Haggar had done, directly or indirectly, from attacking the Blades to hurting Shiro, Lance was pretty sure the only reason Keith could stand to even be in the same room with him was because he didn’t  _ know _ yet that Lance was her successor. But he’d find out, they all would, because that was too important a piece of information to keep hidden. Too dangerous to keep hidden, even if it ended up causing problems for the team and kept them from trusting one of their own. Not that he could blame them.

 

He managed to catch the last few words out of Keith’s mouth. “...I know you might not feel the same way, but…” A soft sigh. “I think I’m in love with you, Lance.”

 

“You shouldn’t be.” His gut twisted painfully, and he just barely managed to keep a bitter laugh from slipping out, because Keith was gazing at him with wide, anxious eyes and he didn’t want to hurt him more than he had to. God, how many times had he fantasized about the other boy saying those exact words to him, and now that he finally did it was at a time like this, when Lance had only just realized that he didn’t deserve it? Realizing the silence was stretching too long and he needed to say something more, he shook his head and ran anxious fingers through his hair. “You shouldn’t be.” He repeated. “I’m no good for you.”

 

“But...you…” Keith was curling in on himself now, confusion and hurt written plainly across his face and making a sick feeling curl in Lance’s stomach with the knowledge that he was the one who’d put it there. “I don’t understand.”

 

Lance desperately wished he could just reach out and pull Keith into his arms, tell him that he meant the world to him, that he loved him too and always would and would never,  _ ever _ hurt him, because it was true. But instead he forced himself to pull his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms around his legs and refusing to look into those beautiful dark eyes. “You will.” He whispered. “Not tonight. Tomorrow. Don’t want to have to talk about it twice, and everyone needs to know.” He couldn’t quite keep the bitter edge out of his tone, imagining the disgusted, mistrustful looks on their faces. But seeing it on Keith’s, here and now, would be even worse than the pained expression he had now. “But I can’t return your feelings, Keith. I’m sorry.” No matter how much it tore at his heart.

 

A harsh silence stretched out between them as for several long heartbeats neither of them spoke. Finally, though, Keith nodded, a single sharp jerk of his head. “Fine. Okay.”

 

Lance’s chest ached at the flatness of his tone, so much like how it had been when they first came to the Castle. But this was for Keith’s own good, he reprimanded the part of him that was twisting with grief and sorrow. He ducked his head, hiding his face in his knees as Keith pushed himself to his feet and strode out of the room without a word or a backwards glance.

 

Only once the door had whirred shut and Keith’s footsteps faded down the hall did he allow himself to cry.

 

________

 

Keith hugged himself tightly, striding quickly down the hall without bothering to keep his footsteps quiet despite the hour.

 

_ Stupid. Stupid. I’m so stupid. _

 

What had he been thinking, telling Lance how he felt? Of course he didn’t return his feelings.  _ Idiot _ . Why would he want to?

 

‘I’m no good for you.’ Trying to spare his feelings, despite the skyrocketing awkwardness in the room. That was just like Lance. But that didn’t make telling him any less of a mistake. He shouldn’t have said anything. Should have just kept his mouth shut. Then maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much.

 

He fumbled with blurry vision to palm the lock on his door, a whine of frustration slipping out as he missed twice before managing to get it open and stumble into his room. His back collided with the metal of the door and he slid down it, burying his face in shaking hands.

 

_ Who would want a messed-up freak like you? _

 

The only sound in the room was Keith’s ragged breathing as he tried to rebuild his walls out of the rubble of his heart.


	43. Chapter 43

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So apparently my brain likes to make a LIAR out of me because I just punched out chapter 46 in three days. But that's okay because I've been hyped for this one.
> 
> Warning for this chapter: Discussions of past minor character death.

Iverson heaved a tired sigh of relief as the gate clanged shut behind the last of the convoy of trucks making their way across the open sandy terrain that separated the Garrison campus from the cluster of alien spacecraft. Onlookers still packed the hastily-erected fence line, both on the campus and along the road outside it, and the guards had been hard-put to keep them at bay while the trucks were being brought through.

 

Gunning the throttles of his ATV, the wheels spun for a moment before the treads dug into the sand and sent him lurching after the larger vehicles. He pushed on ahead of them, heading for the nearest of the big, dark ships. As he approached, a cluster of waiting figures became visible and he adjusted course toward them.

 

He eased to a stop as he reached them so as not to throw up a cloud of dust and jumped down from the driver’s seat. To his surprise it wasn’t Matt Holt waiting for him--the young man was nowhere to be seen--but rather the alien who had identified himself as Coran, advisor to Princess Allura of Altea, who stepped forward to greet him with a cheerful smile and firm handclasp. “Commander Iverson! Welcome back!” He said warmly, eyes crinkling as he smiled. Mitch couldn’t help but be slightly thrown once again by the similarity to Humans. But then, he supposed, with all the life-bearing planets apparently out there in the universe, two races looking alike wasn’t that statistically impossible.

 

“My pleasure, Advisor Coran.” He answered sincerely. “The first shipment of the scrap metal Holt asked for arrived and I thought I’d better follow it in, make sure there’s no problems.” He shot a warning look over his shoulder in the direction of the soldier driving the lead truck, who’d parked his vehicle and frozen halfway out of the cab, gawking dumbly at the gaggle of aliens behind Coran. “Shut your mouth and open your truck, idiot!” He bellowed, and was gratified to see the man startle so badly he fell on his ass in the sand before scrambling up red-faced and rushing to follow orders.

 

The Altean chuckled, eyes twinkling. “Just Coran will do, thank you. With your permission?” He gestured to the waiting cluster of aliens, gathered with an array of hovering flatbeds and forklift-like machines.

 

Eyeing the alien technology with interest--now that the planet was aware of aliens, maybe some sort of technological trade could be established--Mitch nodded firmly. “The sooner we get these trucks unloaded, the sooner we can arrange another shipment. There’s another convoy in Phoenix ready to hit the road once this one’s almost empty.” Which might take a few days, given how tightly packed those trailers were.

 

Coran didn’t laugh, but Mitch got the distinct impression he was amused anyway. “You may as well tell them to get moving now, then.” He turned towards the waiting group and gestured at the trucks standing with their back doors open. “Off you go!”

 

The aliens surged forward, separating into teams as they streamed toward the first three trucks. One of the soldiers had to jump out of the way as a forklift sped up the extended loading ramp and scooped out an enormous pile of tangled scrap--several times what an Earth-made forklift could have carried--before bringing it back down and dumping it onto one of the waiting pallets. It took every ounce of self control Mitch possessed not to let his jaw drop at the speed with which the trucks were being emptied. Full pallets, piled high, were quickly replaced by empty ones, aliens pushing ones loaded with scrap as if they weighed no more than a feather up the ramp and into the ship, reappearing within minutes with the flatbeds empty once more.

 

“You have our thanks, as well as that of the Icebringers.” Coran continued, as if there was nothing remarkable about shifting literal tons of scrap in minutes without breaking a sweat, or however these various alien beings vented excess heat. “I understand they were already running low on many of the stronger metals after our last major fight. We’re going to need every bit you can give us just to limp out of here for proper repairs.”

 

“Stronger metals, huh?” Mitch watched as the forklifts moved on to the next three trucks, the pallets zipping across the sand to the next ship over now instead of the one beside them. “I’m guessing you’re not talking about iron, or even titanium, not that we have much of that to give you.” He eyed the towering hull. The technology was so far beyond what Earth had developed so far, he couldn’t even begin to guess what they might use instead.

 

“They have their uses, but outer hull repairs are not one of them. This,” Coran waved a hand at the trucks, “will let us conserve the stronger materials for those.” He glanced at Mitch knowingly out of the corner of his eye. “Although I do expect we can spare a few small pieces as samples. A token of gratitude for your assistance.”

 

Casting a startled glance at the other, Mitch frowned. “If I’m not mistaken, you’re the ones who just saved the entire planet from total destruction. I think that entitles you to a few favours.”

 

The Altean laughed and waggled a finger at him. “Ah, but in doing so we also exposed your primitive society to technology far beyond its current levels, created mass panic, and caused extensive political upheaval. How’s that settling, by the way?” He folded his hands behind his back and turned to Mitch with a concerned expression.

 

Caught off-guard, he could only blink for a moment before sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose. “About what I expected, to be honest. They’re talking about forming a committee to draft a proposal for a group to look into exactly who knew what before all this and once they do that,  _ then _ they’ll do it all over again to figure out how much trouble people are in.” He heaved a weary sigh, watching another group of trucks rev up and move further down the line to be unloaded. “I have to admit, I was expecting this to take longer. I figured it’d be a nice break from press meetings and conference calls with the president.” He couldn’t quite keep the disgust out of his tone. Talk, talk, talk, that’s all he’d been doing the last few days. Usually the same things over and over.

 

He was startled when Coran burst out laughing. “Bureaucracy, the universal constant.” He chuckled, wiping a tear from his eye. “I apologize. You just sounded so much like King Alfor. He never had much patience for it either. Very much a man of action, our Alfor.” The Altean’s voice took on a fond note, his gaze distant. Then he sighed and shook his head. “But that’s not important. There won’t be any trouble with you continuing as our liaison here on Earth?”

 

“Not a chance.” Mitch shook his head firmly. “Not at the risk of pissing off the aliens. Especially not ones who promised to make sure we continue to not get blown up by the Galra.” Although there’d been times over the last few days when he’d wondered if it would really be that great of a loss if some of those idiots he had to keep repeating himself to ended up on the wrong end of a fighter’s lasers. The number of times he’d had to tell them that no, they couldn’t negotiate with the Galra to leave them alone, that the only thing Earth had to offer to such an advanced race was slave labour and raw materials...he heaved another sigh of exasperation.

 

Coran’s expression was sympathetic, and Mitch wondered how much he’d guessed of the bullshit that was happening. While he couldn’t begin to guess the alien’s relative age, he certainly seemed old enough to have plenty of experience with political crap. Especially as a royal advisor. He clapped a hand to Mitch’s shoulder. “Well, if you have the time to spare, I’d like to get some more detailed information on Earth technology, so we know what we can give you in terms of defenses. The biggest limitation will be what you can provide power for, especially when it comes to particle barriers. Based on what the paladins have told me, I doubt we can give you anything strong enough to do more than buy a little time while sending a signal to us, but we’d like the give you the best we can under those limitations.”

 

Glancing back at the low shape of the Garrison buildings, Mitch harrumphed in annoyance. “Anything to keep those reporters away from me for a while. After we’ve discussed defense systems, I’d like to talk to you about the possibility of bringing a press group in for an interview. They’re frothing at the mouth to see an alien up close and personal.” As well as literally climbing the fence, in a few cases. He dreaded to think what might happen if one got in unnoticed and barged in among all these strange beings.

 

“I’m sure that can be arranged as well. While we appreciate that you’ve been handling it so far, I expect it would be best if we spoke for ourselves in regards to the events of a few days ago, as well as our purpose here on Earth for the time being. I’ll have to discuss it with the Princess and the paladins, of course, but I expect they’ll be more than willing.”

 

“Glad to hear it. Only so many times I can repeat the same shit over and over before I have to resist the urge to tell ‘em to start doing laps.” He fell silent for a moment, watching the cluster of aliens working like a well-oiled machine as they turned their efforts to the last group of trucks. The efficiency was reassuring. Their defenders were well-organized.

 

But there was more to success than organization. His eyes couldn’t help but be drawn to the gashes in the dark hulls, places where paint had been stripped away and twisted metal was being cut back in order to allow proper patching. He’d listened to the battle, the communications, what he could understand of them, anyway. He’d heard the Princess and Shirogane explain to them about the Galra Empire and its ten thousand years of conquering. He’d stared down the barrel of that monstrous weapon, apparently intended to shatter entire planets with a single, massive blast.

 

He shuddered in a way that had nothing to do with the shadow of the ship hanging over them and blocking out the hot morning sun.

 

“Coran.” He said quietly, drawing the alien’s attention back to him from where he was watching an alien using a series of gestures to request one of the trucks be repositioned.

 

“Hm?”

 

Mitch let out a slow breath, folding his arms behind his back. “Be honest with me, one soldier to another.” There was no mistaking that subtle steadiness of stance, the way the other’s eyes constantly scanned the surroundings. Advisor he may be now, but he hadn’t always been that. “Can you win?”

 

There was a long silence between them, filled with the rattle and scrape of scrap metal, the revving of truck engines, and the clang of something heavy high up and off to one side. Coran’s expression was serious, but otherwise unreadable as he turned his head slightly to gaze at the white spires of the Castle of Lions. “...I believe it is possible for us to win, yes.” He said at last.

 

“But you’re not certain you will.” He caught the careful choice of words.

 

Coran hummed for a moment. “You heard our recounting the day we landed. You’re aware of who, and what, Kurogane and Alejandro are, and what happened to them that led them to us. While their warning was sufficient for us to avoid following their path directly, in doing so, events have...altered. Our enemy is powerful, and also unpredictable.”

 

“Not to mention having the advantage of numbers and resources.” Mitch waved an arm at the row of alien vessels for emphasis. “You mentioned that the Galra wiped out the entire Altean civilization, one of the most powerful of its time. You have an ace in the hole that they didn’t?”

 

“Yes, actually.” A trace of a smile appeared on Coran’s face as he turned himself fully towards the Castle. “We have Voltron. Built to defend the universe, it was the most intricate and powerful weapon ever conceived. Not indestructible nor undefeatable, mind you, but unlike anything else created before or since. Rather than raw energy, Voltron’s strength has always come from the Paladins, from their inner strengths and their bonds with each other. As they grow in strength, so does it.”

 

“I thought you said Voltron was built well before the war started. Why wasn’t it used to stop the Galra invasion?”

 

The smile wiped away and the Altean’s gaze became distant and sorrowful. Mitch had the distinct impression he was no longer seeing the Castle, but something else that had taken place a long, long time ago. “Because,” he said softly, “Voltron’s strength is also its greatest vulnerability. When Zarkon turned on his friend, King Alfor, his very first act was to kill as many of his fellow paladins and the apprentice paladins as he could, so that Voltron could not be used against him.”

 

________

 

Allura frowned as she surveyed the group scattered around the lounge. “Alejandro, you said there was something that urgently needed to be discussed with the team?”

 

Alejandro nodded, sliding Kurogane’s arm gently off his shoulders as he rose to his feet. Both were frowning, the former red paladin likely already privy to whatever his partner was about to tell them. The pair had been unusually quiet all morning, murmuring to each other occasionally in whispers and only speaking up to request a meeting regarding a matter of importance.

 

Nor were they the only ones acting oddly. Her gaze slid for a moment to Keith, arms folded tightly across his chest where he sat next to Shiro. The red paladin had been oddly withdrawn today, speaking only when spoken to and delivering clipped, one-word answers. It was almost as if their Keith, who had after months of patience and effort on the part of his teammates begun to open up to them and relax around them, had been replaced by Keith as he had been during the early days of his time on the Castle. It was a baffling change from the day before, and while she knew she wasn’t the only one who had noticed, she’d yet to hear more than a non-committal “I’m fine” when Shiro had asked if he was alright.

 

And if Keith was quiet and stand-offish, Lance had been downright despondent. The usually talkative teen hadn’t uttered a word, even to his mother, who had spent much of the meal frowning at her son as he pushed his food around on his plate rather than eating it. Even now he was sitting with his knees hugged to his chest, leaving a space between himself and Hunk, who was watching his friend with a concerned expression out of the corner of his eye.

 

What in the name of the ancients had happened last night after Coran had led the two blue paladins away to apologize to them?

 

A throat-clearing beside her made her jump and startled her out of her musings. Alejandro was standing beside her, looking at her expectantly, and she blushed and hastily moved off to the side, sitting down in the empty space beside Keith with her hands folded neatly in her lap.

 

“Alright.” Alejandro scanned the group slowly. “This is a discussion I think we should have had a long time ago. Closer to when we started as paladins, I mean. In fact,” She felt his blue-eyed gaze land on her and stiffened in surprise, “we probably should have had it right after we found out that Zarkon was the original black paladin.”

 

There was a quiet hiss of “he was  _ what _ ” from Matt, who apparently hadn’t managed to completely catch up on all the little details, and Shiro straightened. “What’s this about?”

 

Nodding to their leader, Alejandro frowned. “Glad you asked. It’s about the old paladins. Specifically, who they were and what they did. We know Zarkon was the first black paladin, and he turned on Alfor and started conquering the universe. We know that King Alfor was the first yellow paladin, and the one who sent the lions into hiding to keep them out of Zarkon’s hands. But it wasn’t until a couple weeks ago that I learned that the original blue paladin was Alfor’s sister, Acalli. Head of the  _ amvel nayeta _ guild on Altea. And who took Zarkon’s side when he betrayed the others.”

 

Startled exclamations went up on every side and Allura winced as she saw heads turn in her direction. All she could do was swallow hard and try to keep her composure. “Yes. That is, unfortunately, true.” She sighed heavily and closed her eyes, trying not to think of a lean, white-haired Altean woman performing feats of quintessence manipulation that had awed a much younger Allura. “Acalli was my father’s younger sister. They...quarrelled often, but I never would have expected her to turn on him in such a way.” She breathed a soft laugh that she didn’t feel. “Perhaps I was simply naive.” Lifting her head once more, she frowned at the time-traveller. “But I don’t see how this is relevant right now. That was ten thousand cycles ago, and Acalli is long dead.”

 

“It’s very relevant.” Alejandro scowled grimly. “Because last night Lance figured out that Acalli is Haggar.”

 

The stunned silence that followed that declaration was as heavy as stone.

 

Allura gaped at Alejandro, dignity forgotten in her shock and horror. Acalli, Haggar? Her mind reeled, an Altean in blue paladin armor overlaying in her vision with purple robes and glowing yellow eyes. Shifted, she had been unrecognizable in the brief glimpse Allura had had when they fought. But those eyes...Acalli had always had cold eyes, no matter what species she wore. How had she not realized?

 

And if Zarkon could use quintessence to extend his life for millennia, why not Acalli as well? She pressed her hands over he mouth, drawing in a shuddering breath through her fingers. Of course she would. It shouldn’t even be  _ surprising. _ A woman who would turn on her own kind, assist in trying to kill her own brother, turn her back on her own species’ legacy of peace and diplomacy in favour of becoming the right hand of a murdering conqueror was more than capable of the atrocities they’d seen from the witch in the short time since they’d taken up the battle once more, of using the life force of others for her own personal gain.

 

A hand came down on her shoulder and she jumped, looking up at Alejandro’s chagrined expression. “Sorry.” He said softly. “I shouldn’t have dropped that on you like that. Guess I’m more shaken up about it than I thought.”

 

She took a deep breath, trying to get her emotions back under control. Now was not the time to give in to a resurgence of the fury that had filled her when she learned of her Aunt’s betrayal alongside Zarkon. Allura carefully forced herself to put her hands down, settling them on the couch beside her. Something soft brushed against one, and she glanced down to see the mice gazing up at her, alerted by her rampant emotions. She picked up Chulatt and stroked him gently. “No, you have every right to be upset.” she informed Alejandro, and glanced over at Lance, still sitting with his knees hugged to his chest and the same troubled expression he’d worn all day. “Both of you. Learning that one of our enemies was a predecessor to your role must have been…”

 

“Like finding out that Zarkon was the original black paladin?” Alejandro supplied with a humorless grin. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, moving back across the room and tossing himself down beside Kurogane again, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees as he regarded her steadily. “That’s twice now we’ve found out that previous paladins are still alive and out to kill us. Maybe we would have known about Haggar sooner if we’d taken the time to ask you about them sooner, maybe not, but either way, I don’t think any of us wants a third bombshell like that. Princess,” his gaze softened, “I know it’s a painful topic, talking about the past. Believe me, I know. But we need to know. Is there any other past paladin who might turn up on Zarkon’s side of things?”

 

“ _ Please _ tell me Lotor wasn’t Green’s original pilot or something.” Pidge muttered off to one side, drawing scattered laughter and easing the tension in the room just a little. 

 

Allura managed a small smile, scratching Chulatt behind the ears. “No, thankfully. Lotor was not even alive at the time. The first paladin of the Green Lion, part of the same group as Zarkon, Acalli, and my father, was a Hylathian by the name of Ilexam. Very serious, but he loved seeing new places and cultures. He would tell me about them sometimes, when my father was busy with meetings. And the Red Lion,” she was pleased to see Keith perk up a little in interest, “was first piloted by an Olkari named Kobar. She was...very energetic. If there was trouble, she would find it--assuming she didn’t  _ cause _ it.”

 

Shiro chuckled. “They sound like interesting people. What happened to them?”

 

Her hand stilled on Chulatt’s back, her smile falling. “They were killed.” She said at last. “By Zarkon. The day he turned on his friends and began his reign of terror.”

 

The day the war had begun. The day her life had changed forever.

 

The beginning of the end of everything she had known.

 

“The paladins and apprentices had been called on for aid by a planet called Koltarma. They were in political upheaval after an accident had caused the death of the entire royal family, over a dozen factions on the verge of a catastrophic civil war. The paladins of Voltron were known for their impartiality, and so they were asked to arbitrate a meeting between the leaders of several of the more powerful groups in order to forge a new unified planet even in the absence of those they had once rallied around. Each would spend several days with their assigned local leader, learning more about their capabilities and needs, before coming together for the final meeting.”

 

The room was silent around her as she spoke, but her eyes weren’t seeing them anyway. “I don’t know what happened. I was not there, nor was Coran, and King Alfor never told the full story within my hearing. All I know is that the day the meeting was supposed to take place, the Lions returned to the Castle.”

 

She remembered it so clearly. Her sharp ears had caught the familiar crack of ships entering the atmosphere, and she’d looked out the window to see the brightly coloured streaks in a close formation descent. Her heart had leapt and she had raced to the hangars to greet her father on his return. Down the hallways, over the banister to save time, and out into the wide courtyard where she knew they would land. Only to stop dead at the sight that greeted her eyes.

 

Where there should have been ten figures, there were only four, the white of their paladin armor streaked with blood of various colours. The ones in yellow and green supported the one in red down the mouth ramp of the Red Lion as the one in blue trembled against the paw of their matching lion, issuing ragged sobs she could hear from where she stood, frozen in horror. There were no black-armored figures to be seen, and the Black Lion lay sprawled where it had been dropped. The eyes were dark and lifeless in a way she had never seen before.

 

The wrongness of it all kept her rooted to the spot as Coran arrived, pushing past her with a cry of alarm. “Alfor! Stars, what happened?!”

 

She would never forget the look on her father’s face as he lifted his head toward them. Sorrow. Grief. Despair. And fear.

 

Allura shook her head roughly, forcing back the memories. “My father told us that Zarkon had declared the Galra Empire to be at war with Altea. That we needed to begin preparations against an imminent invasion.” A shudder ran through her body, remembered terror and shock chilling her all over again. “Coran asked if there was any possibility of negotiation, of averting the conflict. And my father said no.”

 

“Zarkon had made his decision, his intentions, plain by striking the first blow. In leaving, he and Acalli ensured that there would not be enough of the first paladins left to form Voltron, even if I were to join them as a back-up pilot. So his first act was to kill as many of the apprentices as he could, so that they would not be able to either. He succeeded in killing his own apprentice, a H’ress by the name of Loh’raakkar, and Alfor’s, a half-Galra, half-Balmeran named Aven, before anyone could intervene. The others, led by my father, escaped with the Lions to keep them out of Zarkon’s hands, while Ilexam and Kobar sacrificed themselves to cover their escape.”

 

“So that’s why he sent the Lions into hiding?” Kurogane asked softly in the quiet that followed the end of her story. “Because without Voltron, it was better to conceal the Lions entirely?”

 

Allura nodded. “I believe so. The apprentices were inexperienced, and would not have been able to use the Lions to their full potential in combat. They would only have ended up dead, their Lions captured, and Kobar and Ilexam’s sacrifice would have been in vain.”

 

Hunk’s expression was sorrowful, obviously aching for those lost to Zarkon’s treachery. “The other apprentices, what happened to them? Or do you know.”

 

“No. I wish I did.” She sighed. “Towards the end, the Castle carried only my father, Coran, the remaining three apprentices, and myself, along with the Lions. In the rotations that followed, King Alfor sent the apprentices away with the Red, Green, and Blue Lions. What became of them afterwards, I have no idea. Obviously at least two of them succeeded in hiding their lions, but I have no idea where they would have gone from there. Or where King Alfor went after concealing the Yellow Lion. I was already in the cryo-replenisher when he left.” Her chest ached. She hadn’t even had the chance to to say goodbye.

 

Something of her feelings must have shown in her face, because Shiro leaned across to put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “We’re sorry for your loss. I know this must be incredibly hard to talk about. But are you sure there’s no chance any of them would have gone to Zarkon’s side? Considering that Red was on a Galra warship when we found her…”

 

“Absolutely not.” She shook her head firmly. “I knew them well enough to know that none of the apprentices would have done such a thing, even if Zarkon had not killed two of their own. That would merely have cemented their resolve to fight against him any way they could.  _ Especially _ Torlast, the red apprentice. Velkwins have very strict codes of honour when it comes to combat, and Zarkon broke every single one. Xe would have rather died than aid him.”

 

“And the blue and green apprentices?” He prompted gently.

 

“Father often said that Fiorin embodied loyalty better than any other person with blue quintessence he’d ever met. He was utterly devoted to his team, and to the purpose for which Voltron was created, the defense of those in need. Conquering and killing was counter to everything he believed in.” She bit her lip thoughtfully. “I can’t imagine how my father convinced him to take the Lion into hiding rather than using it to defend Altea. And despite being Galra herself, it was Marmora who tried to rally the Galra in opposition of Zarkon in the early days of the war.” Tried and failed. Was it any wonder it had been so hard for Allura to believe that there were any who did so now?

 

Pidge bolted upright at that, though, drawing her attention. “Hang on, did you say Marmora? That was the green apprentice’s name?” Her voice was filled with barely contained excitement.

 

Allura blinked, and nodded. “Yes. It was.”

 

“As in, the Blades of Marmora?”

 

Realization hit her like a thunderclap, and she stared at Pidge in shock. “I...I don’t know. It was a common name back then, but...I suppose it’s possible.”

 

Pidge was grinning fit to split her face in two, bouncing in her seat. “More than possible, I think. Keith,” she called, “Remember the day of the battle? When your blade did that glowing thing? It was green, wasn’t it?”

 

Keith nodded, shoulders hunching as everyone turned to look at him, but he sat up a bit and unsheathed his knife. He held it carefully, looking down at it where it rested in his palms. “The sigil on the stone lit up green, and it made me feel like I needed to get away. It was really weird.” He grimaced. “Then Kolivan’s message came in and I stopped thinking about it. Other things to worry about.”

 

“Allura, can you tell us if the symbol means anything?” Pidge asked.

 

Despite her confusion at the request, Allura carefully accepted the knife from a reluctant Keith and studied the bright symbol within the blue stone. It took her a moment to place it, from studies that felt so very long ago now. “It’s an old Galran runic symbol.” She told them, tracing the shape likely with a fingertip. “If memory serves me correctly, I believe the literal translation is ‘nerve’, although that can vary depending on the context.” She passed the knife back to Keith who quickly returned it to his sheath. “It can also be commonly read as ‘courage’.”

 

“Two of the green aspects!” Hunk exclaimed, looking over at Pidge and meeting her grin with one of his own.

 

“Yup.” The green paladin started ticking off points on her fingers. “A Galra who rallied others of their own kind to oppose the Empire. Blades that carry a symbol whose meaning is the same as two of the green aspects, including the one that’s supposed to be about carrying information in a group. ‘Knowledge or death.’”

 

The smile she turned toward Allura then was heavy with understanding for the weight of not knowing as she leaned closer against her brother’s side. “I know it’s not conclusive proof, but it is pretty strong evidence. I guess we do know what happened to one of them after all.”


	44. Chapter 44

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: BIG warning for grief/mourning in this chapter, as well as discussions of past minor character death. You might want to skip from "Shiro felt Matt shudder under his hands..." to the next scene break, and also generally be careful at the end of the Pidge POV, although that one is less intense.
> 
> The move from hell is finally over and I can focus on trying to work writing into my new schedule. Probably a lot more writing on the bus now since my commute is longer. I don't care, though, as long as I get time to write!

The cameras finally, mercifully stopped flashing and Shiro tried to blink away the spots in his vision. How had he never realized how lucky they were that none of the planets they’d liberated used  _ that _ particular technology?

 

Beside him, the younger paladins looked equally relieved by the end to the visual assault, if not the verbal one as the cluster of journalists, hastily assembled from those who’d apparently been dogging Iverson for information about the aliens after Coran had interrupted their excited discussion of the implications of Pidge’s discovery with the commander’s request, continued to barrage them with questions. Nevermind the fact that both Allura and Shiro had already delivered highly-condensed recountings of the events that had happened over the last year and some months, as well as the origins of the war, and the interrogation--not quite enough to make him miss the last time he’d been captured on a mission, but the thought had definitely crossed his mind--had been going on for hours.

 

Hunk shifted closer, still plastering on a smile for the cameras. “I think Keith and Pidge need a break soon.” he muttered out of the corner of his mouth with a meaningful sideways glance at the two. Shiro followed his gaze and bit back a laugh.

 

While Allura and Lance were very much in their element, the former easily keeping up a warm diplomatic smile and the latter practically hamming it up for the cameras--a welcome change from his earlier moroseness, although Shiro knew him well enough by now to doubt that his cheerful grin was entirely genuine--Keith and Pidge were anything but comfortable with all the attention. It was the same story on any planet they went to. Give them a fight, a mission, a problem to solve, they were all over it, but expect them to smile and play nice for the cameras? No chance. Keith’s arms were folded so tightly across his chest Shiro was surprised his fingertips weren’t leaving divots in his armor, his glare having steadily progressed from annoyed toward murderous until even the journalists (one of the most fearless species of humans, in Shiro’s experience) were wary of approaching him. And Pidge’s fingers were twitching toward her wrist computer and an escape from social interaction while her desire to not have to talk anymore was coming out in her increasingly aggravated tone. They’d been holding up well, though, and the journalists finally seemed to be running out of questions. As long as none of them asked anything too idiotic--

 

“Miss Holt! How did you feel when you realized the Garrison had been lying to you about the deaths of your brother and father?”

 

\--Like that. Shiro saw Pidge’s eyes narrow and her mouth open for what was sure to be a scathing retort and quickly intervened before she could jump the fool who was grinning at her, stylus poised to write down her answer. Stepping forward, he clapped his hands loudly, drawing all eyes to him. “Alright, I’m afraid we’re out of time for today.” He declared, smiling amiably at the disappointed faces of the journalists. “We need to get ready for our afternoon training session. Lance, Hunk, Keith, Pidge, you’re dismissed. Go do your warm-ups and stretches and I’ll join you in a few minutes.”

 

It was a lie, they didn’t actually have training planned. But it wasn’t the first time they’d used training as a convenient excuse to put an end to situations like this and even if he hadn’t been he doubted they wouldn’t have taken the out. The younger four saluted him, the raggedness of the gestures betraying how exhausted they were with the whole thing, and then they were gone so fast he didn’t even see which way they went. The fact that even Lance hadn’t protested...he wasn’t sure if the lengthy interview had got to him, or if he was still upset about the Haggar revelation. Not that Shiro could blame him if he was. He knew all too well how it felt to learn that you were walking in the footsteps of one of your enemies. He’d have to talk to the teen later, let him know that whatever Haggar had done didn’t change who Lance was, or what they thought of him. That reminded him he also needed to try to get Keith to talk to him about whatever had been bothering him all morning, although god knew nobody could bottle up his feelings like Keith when he didn’t want to talk.

 

First, though, he had to wrap up this group interview and get these reporters out of the Castle. Allura would be taking them over to one of the pack ships to meet a few aliens before they left. One of them was waving a hand eagerly, so he nodded to the woman to ask her question. “What exactly does your training entail?” Her eyes were bright with curiosity.

 

“That depends on the day and the skills we’re working on.” He answered easily. “The Castle of Lions’ training facilities are very versatile and allow us to do everything from team-building exercises such as guiding a partner through a maze that only the guiding partner can see, to live-fire combat simulations against any number of robotic opponents.”

 

Another journalist frowned as he jotted notes. “Live-fire combat simulations? Isn’t that a bit dangerous?”

 

Shiro shrugged, giving a small nod. “Fighting the Galra is dangerous. The best thing we can do is be ready for anything they might throw at us, and that means practicing to face those kinds of situations ahead of time. Believe me, they can handle it. The training drones are nothing compared to what they might face in the field. Now, if you'll excuse me..." He turned away from the cluster of reporters around him and stepped toward the side of the room where Matt had been answering questions about the resistance specifically, since he was more familiar with it than anyone else in the room.

 

Shiro hadn't taken more than two steps, though, before he heard Matt's voice raised in obvious anger that he seldom heard from the other man. "I said, I'm not going into detail about that. Stop asking!"

 

"What's going on here?" Shiro crossed the room in a hurry, seeing a handful of journalists stunned to silence by the frustration on Matt's face. He frowned. Obviously someone had asked something that had upset Matt. This is why he hated dealing with media, no respect for boundaries. "Alright. We're done here. Thank you for your time." His tone left no room for argument as he stepped between Matt and his interviewers, gesturing towards the row of chairs where the other group were stashing notes and tablets in bags and briefcases.

 

He waited until they'd moved away before turning, grabbing Matt's shoulders gently and keeping his voice low. "Hey, you okay? What happened?"

 

Matt made a small noise of frustration, scrubbing the back of his hand across his eyes. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. They just...kept bugging me for details about things I told them I didn't want to talk about."

 

"Like what?" Shiro prompted. He wouldn't pry, he just wanted to know what was on his boyfriend's mind so he knew how to handle the situation.

 

The other blew out a soft sigh, glancing away. "...Like Dad." He whispered, two words carrying a weight of grief and sorrow.

 

Oh. That would definitely do it. No wonder Matt had snapped. 

 

Glancing over his shoulder, he saw the journalists were nearly done gathering up their things. "Come on. Allura can handle this. Let's get out of here." He murmured. Putting an arm around Matt's shoulders, he steered him out of the room. He could practically feel the tension bleeding out of his partner as the journalists disappeared from view. 

 

"Sorry." Matt muttered as they headed down the hallway. "I shouldn't've yelled at them."

 

"You had good reason. Dealing with the media was by far my least favourite part of preparing for Kerberos, even compared to the high-G training and the confined quarters tests." That, at least, got a chuckle out of Matt, much to Shiro's relief. "I mean, in the first one, at least there was no one there to see me throw up, and the second one I was stuck with you, so it wasn't all  _ that _ bad."

 

Matt was smiling now, at least a little, and it was a lot better than the pain and aggravation he'd been wearing before, so Shiro counted it as a victory. "Yeah, I'm definitely with you there. Doing the social media was fine. Press conferences not so much. Do you think being a vulture is a requirement to get a job as a journalist, or is that just the kind of person who does that job?" He didn't even try to hide the disgust in his tone, smile falling away again. "They wanted to know all the little gory detail about the Galra prisons, the labour camp, what happened to each of us..." He pressed a palm over the left side of his face, trying to cover the four long parallel scars and the whiteness of his blind eye. "And this sure as hell didn't help."

 

Shiro winced in sympathy. He'd gotten asked at least three times about the scar on his face, and considered himself lucky that they'd all been wearing their armor for show, which concealed his prosthetic entirely. It may not be the original Galra-made one anymore, thank god, but that didn't mean he wanted to think about why he had it at all. Heaving a sigh, he palmed open the door to the observation lounge that had become the communal bedroom. None of the others were in evidence, so he set to work stripping off his armor and changing back into his usual clothing, stacking the armor neatly off to the side where he could grab it later.

 

When he turned around again Matt was sitting on one of the couches, left leg stretched out across the cushions as he gazed out the window at the desert below. He wore a pensive frown, eyes distant. Hesitating for a moment, Shiro joined him, pulling the bad leg carefully into his lap and massaging around his knee through the fabric. They'd been standing for hours, and it was probably sore, and the soft sigh Matt let out confirmed the guess. "Penny for your thoughts?" Shiro asked in a low voice.

 

There was such a long pause he thought maybe the other hadn't heard him, and he was about to ask again when Matt finally spoke. "I was just thinking about what the press conference would have been like if the Galra had never taken us."

 

Shiro's breath caught in his throat. He usually tried to avoid thinking about what-ifs. What if they hadn't been taken, what if his attempt to protect Matt hadn't been enough, what if Ulaz had never helped him escape and sent him back to Earth, setting off the chaotic chain of events that led to where they were now. They were too painful, laced with fears and regrets and the stuff of nightmares. What if they’d gotten to complete the mission and come home...he swallowed against the sudden lump in his throat.

 

"There wouldn't have been so many journalists, I don't think, even for mankind's most distant manned mission ever." Matt continued, talking almost to himself more than Shiro. "Ice samples aren't exactly exciting news." His breath carried the ghost of a laugh, entirely without humor, and Shiro knew he'd been thinking of the the conversation they'd been having just before the Galra warship appeared in the dark skies of Kerberos. If he'd known then what fate had in store, maybe he would have been able muster up a little more enthusiasm for what would be the last 'normal' moment of his life.

 

Another slow, soft breath, barely audible in the quiet of the room. "We’d be holding the conference in the big press room at the Garrison, or maybe one of the lecture theatres so all the camera people would have a good view. And Dad would have been talking up a storm. He wouldn’t care that nobody else found it as exciting as we did. He always had a way of talking about science that could make even the most boring things, like rock samples and meteorite fallout patterns, sound like the coolest thing in the world. He’d have been so excited to tell everyone all about everything we found, every new clue it gave us about life and the stars and everything in between…”

 

Shiro felt Matt shudder under his hands and realized, like a punch to the gut, that the other was fighting back tears. “H-He deserved to come home, Takashi. He worked so hard, for us, for Kerberos, for  _ me _ ...he…” A shaky breath pulled into rattling lungs, the exhale almost a sob. “He should’ve been the one to come home.”  _ Not me _ , the words sat heavy in the air between them.

 

“No, Matt.” Shiro gasped out, the very idea sending a shock of white-hot terror running right through him. Twisting, he wrapped his arms around Matt and pulled him into his lap. He could feel his boyfriend trembling against him as he buried his face in the soft orange hair. “He should’ve gotten to come home, yeah. He didn’t deserve what happened to him. Neither of you did. But you deserve to come home too.”

 

Hands clutched at his arms, Matt’s breath coming in sharp gasps as he waged a losing battle against his emotions. Shiro held him tighter, his mind rebelling at the thought of Matt dying under a Galra guard’s gun, Sam, scarred and broken and the one they found on the Icebringers’ ship,  _ I’m so sorry, Katie, your brother is gone _ , the man he loved being gone forever, lost to the distant stars. “You deserve to be alive, Matt.” He breathed hoarsely. His chest ached, bursting with grief for Sam’s death and sorrow for Matt’s pain and guilt and shame for the fact that he couldn’t help being glad that if only one of them could survive, it had been Matt who’d come back to him after two long, harrowing years. “I’m so sorry.”

 

“T-They just...they just  _ shot _ him, Takashi…” Matt choked the words out through his tears. “They shot him and dragged him away like...like he was  _ nothing _ , and then he was gone, just like that, and I just…” His body heaved with a desperate inhalation, curling in itself in Shiro’s lap in a way that tore at his heart. “I just miss him so much…”

 

“I know.” Shiro’s voice cracked as he held Matt closer, vainly trying to offer whatever meager comfort he could against the sheer crushing weight of his boyfriend’s grief and the agony of his memories, helpless to alter the past or take away his pain. “I know. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

 

_______

 

"Ah! Number seven! Might I have a moment of your time? It's not urgent."

 

Pidge groaned, not looking up from her laptop as her fingers flew over the keyboard. "Ugh. Why'd you have to update that when Alejandro and Kurogane joined the team? Being number five was bad enough." She sighed, tapping a couple more keys, then finally glanced up at the Altean leaning against the doorway. "What's up?"

 

Coran chuckled. "I'm told you have an interesting theory about what became of one of the old paladins after they left with the Lions. I thought I'd better come hear it for myself."

 

"Oh, that. Uh, sure." Saving her work, she waved him in and gestured for him to find himself a seat in the chaos of her room. It was messy, but comfortable and familiar, which she'd desperately needed after that endless press interview earlier. Peace and quiet and time to herself had done wonders to put her back in a happier frame of mind. "Have a seat. How much did Allura tell you?"

 

The Altean hummed, settling himself on the edge of the bed. "Some, but I wanted to get the full reasoning from yourself as well. I've often wondered what became of them after they left Altea and hid the lions, whether they survived and went into hiding or were eventually captured and killed like the others. If your theory is correct, well...it would be a relief to know that at least one of them made it."

 

Pidge stared at him for a moment, hearing the note of sadness in his voice as he spoke. Right. He’d known them too, probably even better than Allura since he worked with the paladins directly as King Alfor’s advisor. Not to mention Alfor himself. Even if neither he or Allura had ever said it outright, she was pretty sure there was more there than simply being coworkers. She caught the loneliness in his eyes as he picked up one of her gadgets to examine and quickly looked away, feeling her cheeks burn as though she’d see something she wasn’t supposed to. “Um, right.” She closed her laptop and set it aside, picking up one of the puffballs she’d adopted from the space trash heap and running her fingers through the soft fur and getting a delighted trill in response. “Well, Allura was telling us about the original paladins and their apprentices, and she mentioned the Green apprentice was a Galra named Marmora. She said that she even tried to rally other Galra to oppose Zarkon when he started taking over other worlds.”

 

“That is correct, yes. She was furious at the betrayal, and at her people’s loss of honour in following him. I don’t know that she ever found more than a handful of Galra who were willing to oppose him, however.” He sighed. “Zarkon was quick to make examples out of those who did.”

 

“Why doesn’t that surprise me…” Pidge muttered. The Empire’s propaganda and loyalty machine had to start somewhere, after all. “Anyway...I think she must’ve found some and gone on to found the Blades of Marmora with them.” She straightened up, ignoring the puff’s chirp of protest, and started ticking off points on her fingers. “The Blades are all about information. Their weapons have a Galran rune that means ‘nerve’. When Kolivan sent out an emergency signal using the blades, the sigil lit up  _ green _ . And I don’t know how common the name Marmora was for Galra ten thousand years ago, but the chances of there being two different Galra with the same name who both organized other Galra to work against Zarkon? Doesn’t seem very likely to me.”

 

Coran hummed thoughtfully, twisting one end of his moustache. “It’s certainly an intriguing theory, I have to admit.”

 

She caught the note of hesitation in his voice and frowned. “You don’t sound convinced.”

 

He chuckled, shaking his head. “All the evidence certainly points to the conclusion you reached, Pidge. I’m certainly not faulting your logic there. But I’m afraid I do have some reservations. Namely that the Blades of Marmora operate on stealth and secrecy, and the second Green Paladin, Marmora, was about as subtle as a charging glyptev!”

 

“...So not subtle at all then, I take it.”

 

“Not in the slightest. I can show you, if you like.” Coran pushed himself to his feet, offering her a hand up.

 

Pidge accepted the hand and let him pull her up, shifting the puff to her shoulder. “Memories? Like the one you showed Lance and Alejandro?” She felt a thrill of excitement running through her. Sure they’d all seen glimpses of the things Allura and Coran knew from their past, at least up until the incident with the corrupted crystal, but this was totally different. Specific memories of people and places from long ago, events that Coran had personally witnessed. No way could she pass up a chance to see more of what Altea had been like, a society that had created the Castle of Lions and Voltron.

 

The Altean chuckled as they headed out into the corridor. “Yes. There have been quite a few memories of the first and second paladins among the memories I’ve already sorted and stored.” His eyes twinkled as he glanced down at her. “I rather suspected you would be interested in learning more about your predecessors.”

 

“You know me too well.” She laughed. Shortly they’d left the more well-travelled areas of the Castle behind for the quieter areas. So much of the ship was like this, echoing emptily, but that’s what happened when you had only ten people living in a ship meant for hundreds. Before long the doors of the holoprojection chamber were whirring open in front of them, and she stroked the puff idly as Coran stepped up to the control panel.

 

A moment later she jumped as the metal walls vanished, replaced by the smaller space of the training room’s control booth. A few feet away from them, another Coran stood at the window. While this one looked much less weary and worn than her own Coran, there was still a hint of sadness in the lines of his face, and she didn’t think he was all that much younger. Beside him, a Hylathian--Ilexam, the original green paladin, she thought--sat in a hover chair, looking out over the the training room floor with an exasperated expression.

 

Curious, Pidge stepped up beside them to see what they were looking at, peering over the top of the console.

 

_ Down below, a lone figure was sparring bare-handed with three unarmed training bots. Dressed in a black bodysuit that resembled the undersuit of paladin armor and emphasized her bulky frame, almost as broad in the shoulders as Kolivan, the blue-furred Galra bared her teeth in a snarl and lunged at the closest bot with a swipe of her claws. The bot danced backwards and Marmora followed, grabbing and missing at her opponent. _

 

_ She was so focused on her chosen target that she completely missed the other two bots closing in from behind until a roundhouse kick in her side sent her tumbling, assisted by a punch to the side of the head. The Galra lay for a moment, stunned, then struggled to her feet with an expression of outrage on her face. Another headlong charge met with no more success than the previous attempt and the bots sent her flying once more. _

 

_ In the control booth, Ilexam groaned and dragged his hands down his face, short silvery headfins drooping. “What am I going to do with her…” _

 

_ “Perhaps she’ll improve with practice?” Memory-Coran offered, wincing at another yelp of pain from down below. _

 

_ “One can only hope.” Ilexam grumbled. “I’m almost afraid of what will happen when she joins the diplomacy classes with Fiorin and Torlast.” _

 

_ There was a pause as they watched Marmora hurl one of the bots across the room, only to be tackled by the other two. “...Perhaps we’ll hold off on that for now. Have one of the guard captains train her on tactics and armed combat. What form does her bayard take?” _

 

_ “A grenade launcher.” There was despair in the Hylathian’s voice as he turned his hover chair away from the window. _

 

_ The Altean had the grace to look appalled as he patted the paladin on the shoulder. “Well, giving her time and patience is the best advice I can offer, I’m afraid. She may yet surprise you. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m afraid I have a meeting to get to…” _

 

The projection froze on the image of Coran heading for the door, the playback over. Pidge gave her own Coran a stunned look. “A  _ grenade launcher _ ? Man, you weren’t kidding about subtlety not being her strong point…”

 

Coran laughed and nodded vigorously. “Not at all. Although, her bayard’s form did turn out to be more versatile than we initially realized. It could produce many different types of grenades from fragmentation to flash-bangs.” He sighed, studying the frozen image of the young Galra woman, caught mid-punch. “While subtlety was not Marmora’s strongest suit, she was also aware that that was not where her skill lay. In the end she worked quite well with her team, because she was not afraid to admit that another might be better suited for a given task. She had her roles to fill and so did they.”

 

Huh. That made more sense. Pidge was beginning to understand what Malrento had meant about the characteristics of certain quintessence colours taking different forms for different people. Curiosity and courage and communication. For Ilexam, learning about the universe, voyaging beyond the confines of his native environment, and giving voice to his concerns and asking for advice. For Marmora, not being afraid to admit weakness or ask for help. For Pidge, facing the dangers of war, and being determined to survive to see her future. All different, and yet all alike at the same time.

 

She hummed thoughtfully and climbed up to sit on the console beside Coran. “Can you show me anything else? Like the other paladins and apprentices? Oh, or how the lions were made, I mean I’ve always wondered how you--”

 

“Slow down there, number seven!” Coran chuckled, holding up a hand to forestall further questions. “It would be my pleasure to show you more, but one thing at a time!” His fingers flew over the keyboard, the training room control booth vanishing, and he paused to tap his fingers against his chin for a moment. “Now...what to show you...ah, I have just the thing!” A few more keystrokes and their surroundings changed once more.

 

_ A vast blue sky arched overhead, broken only by the distant silver band of an artificial ring low on the horizon. Underfoot, a smooth stone pathway, bordered by colourful flowers, led from a wall some distance away toward the Castle of Lions up ahead, with cross-paths intersecting it at intervals and winding off into the gardens. Coran, face clear of any lines of sadness for all he didn’t look any younger than in the previous memory, was walking along with an Altean man who didn’t look much older than Allura and making notations on a data tablet as they went. _

 

_ “...so it seems to me as though you’ll be an excellent fit amongst the engineering staff, Fiorin. In addition to the Castle itself, we maintain several different classes of travel pods, shuttles, and other craft, as well as--” _

 

_ His next words were drowned out by a deafening roar overhead. A shadow passed over the pair as a red blur shot low over their heads, making the younger Altean yelp and duck, circling the Castle before disappearing into one of the hangars in the engine spires. Fiorin gaped after it in astonishment, slowly uncurling from his defensive crouch. “What in the name of the first stars was that?!” _

 

_ “That,” Coran chuckled, “Is one of the other machines you’ll be working with. The Red Lion of Voltron. Come.” He strode forward, waving a hand for the other to follow. “I’ll introduce you to Kobar and Red first, then I’ll show you the others.” _

 

_ It didn’t take them long to reach the familiar doors to the Red Lion’s hangar. When the doors whirred open, there was no Olkari paladin to be seen, but Fiorin didn’t seem to mind, staring up at the silent colossus of the Red Lion with undisguised awe. “Wow...I’d heard of the Lions, but even when I applied to work at the Castle, I never expected…” He trailed off, topaz eyes bright as he gazed at the machine. Coran’s expression was fondly amused as he watched the younger Altean get his fill of the sight. _

 

_ Which is why Fiorin was the first to notice when the Lion’s eyes flashed to gold, stiffening in surprise even before Red roared and stepped toward them. _

 

_ Coran’s startled exclamation was drowned out by the thud of metal on metal as the Red Lion moved closer and crouched down directly in front of them. She put out her head and very, very carefully nudged the frozen Fiorin with her nose. The young man held very still, glancing over at Coran in terror. “W-what’s going on? Why is she doing this?” _

 

_ There was a pause as the older tried to gather his wits. “I think…” He said slowly, gazing at the Lion as though he’d suddenly never seen it before. “I think it may mean that you’re not going to be an engineer here after all. Instead...” He took a deep breath. “I think you’re going to be a paladin.” _

 

Pidge frowned as the playback ended. “Hold up. Didn’t Allura say Fiorin was the  _ blue _ apprentice?”

 

“He was.” Coran nodded quietly. “Which I expect is why Red did not drop her ramp for him. My belief is that she recognized him as part of a viable set, the same way the Yellow Lion did when he first awoke in front of King Alfor. In reacting to him, she connected to the rest of his set, and the other lions sensed their paladins among them.”

 

“Guess that makes sense, since they’re all connected…” She laughed. “Must’ve been pretty confusing though. How long did it take to figure out he was Blue’s paladin and not Red’s?”

 

As she glanced over at him, she caught a flash of sadness in his eyes and her own smile dropped before he could conceal it behind his usual cheerful expression. He sighed as he noticed her gaze and gave her a tired smile. “Longer than you might expect. Something else happened that took precedence for a time over even the discovery of a new set of paladins.”

 

“What happened?” She swung her feet back and forth against the console. Something had happened between those two memories to put lines of sadness around the old Altean’s eyes. “If you don’t mind me asking, I mean, it’s not really any of my business, but if you wanna talk about it…” She trailed off awkwardly, feeling her cheeks burn with embarrassment. She wasn’t good at offering comfort, or dealing with feelings.

 

Coran chuckled, a soft, tired sound. “No, it’s quite alright, Pidge. I’ve had time to come to terms with it. What happened was the death of Allura’s mother, Linnata.”

 

Pidge’s mouth dropped open in shock and guilt swirled in her chest. Why hadn’t it ever occurred to her to wonder what had happened to Allura’s mom? She only ever talked about her father. How long ago had it happened? How young had she been when she lost her?

 

Turning back to the console, Coran called up the image of an Altean woman. Long indigo hair draped around her shoulders in curling waves, and emerald eyes with pink pupils sparkled with the small, secretive smile she wore. Her markings were soft copper swirls on her tanned cheeks. Pidge could see the resemblance to Allura, both in appearance and in the quiet dignity with which she carried herself.

 

“Linnata was an incredible woman.” Coran smiled fondly as he gazed at the image. “One of the most powerful  _ amvel nayeta _ on record. It was she who devised and led the rituals that infused the Lions with pure elemental quintessence and breathed life into them.”

 

“She created the Lions?” Pidge breathed, gazing at the projection with new respect and more than a little awe.

 

“Mhm. Unfortunately, doing so had some unexpected...consequences.”

 

She glanced up at him again, silently waiting for him to continue.

 

He paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts, his expression sorrowful. “In crafting the Lions, her quintessence became linked to theirs permanently, the same way Allura’s is now. She would have been able to pilot them in an emergency, although thankfully such a situation never arose. However, the rituals also placed an incredible strain on her from which she never truly recovered, and when the connection to a new set of paladins rippled through the bond...her body could not take it, and she collapsed.” He shuddered, fingertips digging into the console. There was a helplessness in his tone that shook her to her core, a heaviness from a loss that he obviously still felt deeply. “There was nothing we could do to save her.”

 

Guilt welling up in her throat at bringing up something so painful, Pidge jumped down from the console and threw her arms around Coran’s middle in a tight hug, trying to offer what comfort she could. She felt his arms encircle her in return after a moment, his breath shuddering in his chest under her cheek. “I’m sorry.” She whispered. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

 

Coran heaved a slow sigh and patted her shoulder, and she pretended not to see him wipe his glove across his eyes as he stepped back. “It’s quite alright. I expect it would have come up sooner or later if you wanted to learn about how the Lions were made.”

 

“Still, you didn’t have to talk about it if you didn’t want to.”

 

“No more secrets about the Lions or their paladins.” Coran said firmly. “I promised myself that after the debacle regarding the blue aspect. The more you all know, the easier it will be to avoid surprises. Now,” he turned to the console again and the still-smiling figure of Linnata vanished, taking the painful subject firmly with it. “Why don’t I show you how the Green Lion was made?”


	45. Chapter 45

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No warnings for this chapter.
> 
> Sorry this one took so long, guys. Between the move, adjusting to the new commute, and the first scene of chapter 48 just straight up not cooperating with me, I've had a heck of a time getting the words out.
> 
> Also, please check out the new Fan Content Masterpost! I've been gifted with some absolutely gorgeous new pieces of art, one of Alejandro, and a set of ones of Matt, Alejandro, and Kurogane, and a brilliant playlist that is such a treat to listen to!  
> https://vldaspect.tumblr.com/post/173078282660/fan-content-masterpost
> 
> Finally, a point of clarification to avoid any confusion: Ryou and Shiro are cousins, but they consider each other to be brothers and call each other as such. However, while Ryou refers to his parents as being parents of both of them (since they adopted Shiro after his own died), Shiro refers to them as his Aunts and Uncle.

Ryou leaned against the doorframe, watching Takashi standing in the middle of what had once been his bedroom and gazing at the empty walls.

 

Faded squares of paint marked where posters had once hung, ranging from diagrams of old spacecraft to telescope photos of distant nebulae to the limited edition reproduction of the Voyager record that had once hung over the head of the bed, a prized possession that a younger Takashi had saved for scrupulously for almost three years. Divots in the carpet noted where furniture had stood, the bed and desk shifted from their old positions, the empty dresser extracted from its awkward corner where it had dwelt for years to free enough wall space for a particularly large chart of potentially habitable planets around distant stars. The worn galaxy-patterned bedding, a relic of many years before Takashi had moved into the cadet barracks at the Garrison, had been replaced a soft pale green, but nothing could remove the marks on the headboard where a rough solar system diagram had been scratched into the wood.

 

The barrenness of it had left a sick feeling in Ryou’s stomach ever since his parents had, with great difficulty, packed away everything his brother had left behind almost five months after the disaster that had taken his life. On his rare visits home he’d tried to avoid so much as looking at the door in passing, refused to set foot in the space that was filled with aching memories and lingering traces of someone he would never see again.

 

Seeing Takashi alive in there, his scars, hair, and prosthetic arm leaving him as indelibly marked by the past as the room was and studying it with the broken,  _ lost _ expression he only allowed himself to wear when he didn’t think anyone was looking, was somehow almost worse.

 

The night before, at dinner, Allura had announced they finally had a schedule for the rest of the repairs and the manufacturing of components for the defense systems they’d be leaving behind. It would be three full days before the defense systems were ready to be installed, and she declared that they may as well spend that time in their homes as well as with their families. It wasn’t as if they couldn’t return in an emergency, and they deserved to make the most of what little time they could afford to spend on Earth.

 

Ryou had immediately tried to convince his little brother that he should come to Kyoto to visit their parents, but found Takashi strangely reluctant. It had taken the combined efforts of the entire team--minus Lance, who had barely waited for the end of the meal to get out of the room to grab his things, to the obvious consternation and concern of the other paladins--and some pointed remarks from Alejandro about missed opportunities and regrets to get him to agree to go.

 

Now, though, Ryou was beginning to understand just why he’d been so unwilling. Time had moved forward, and things and people changed.

 

Tearful hugs and awkward catch-up conversations, as if Takashi were home on leave instead of catching his breath in the middle of an intergalactic war, didn’t take away what had happened. It didn’t take away the two years they’d thought Takashi was dead. It didn’t take away Takashi’s prosthetic, his scars, the way he jumped and his arm flashed ultraviolet, just for a fraction of a second, when their dad startled him by placing a hand on his shoulder while he was lost in thought. It didn’t take away the things Takashi had seen and done that he still refused to discuss, that left shadows in his eyes and woke him up screaming in the middle of the night.

 

(Ryou was fairly certain his brother didn’t know he knew about those, but you didn’t become a successful archaeologist by being unobservant.)

 

Everything was different, and Takashi had already known that, even without coming back here to be confronted by the ghosts of could-have-been and used-to-be.

 

Swallowing his guilt, he knocked lightly on the doorframe. Takashi jumped and whirled to face him with his right arm lifting into a defensive position, then relaxed as he saw who it was. “Ryou. You startled me.”

 

“Sorry.” He shrugged, acting casual despite the additional reminder of how altered the other was. “Mind if I come in?”

 

“It’s your house.” Takashi said softly, gaze drifting to the blank walls again.

 

Ryou frowned. “Yours too. And it’s your room.”

 

“Was.”

 

“ _ Is _ , doofus.” He made a smacking motion in the air, since the other was out of reach. “Now can I come in or not?”

 

His brother gave a soft laugh at the familiar gesture and nodded, waving him in. “Did you need something?”

 

“Nah, just couldn’t stand that look on your face.” He admitted as he settled down on the edge of the bed. “I shouldn’t have forced you to come out here. I’m sorry.”

 

Takashi sighed, turning to lean back against the opposite wall. “Don’t apologize. You wanted me to have the same kind of happy homecoming the others all got, right? And it has been nice, seeing Aunt Minako and Aunt Izumi and Uncle Takuya again, in person. It’s just…” he trailed off, glancing sideways at the walls again.

 

“...Just that you’re not who they expected to see, right?” Ryou completed the thought for him, following his brother’s gaze to the scratched headboard. “You’re not the Takashi Shirogane you were before Kerberos anymore.”

 

The Takashi Shirogane who had put up those posters, whose shelves were filled with books about space. The Takashi who plastered the ceiling with glow in the dark stars and taught himself calculus because he thought it would make him better at the simulators once he got to the Garrison. The Takashi who could tell you the name of every bright star in the sky and how far they were from earth and what their potential for a Human colony was believed to be. The Takashi who dreamed of a bright future among the stars.

 

That was the Takashi whose possessions were buried in the basement, in boxes labelled by a shaky hand and splotched by tears.

 

The other let out a slow breath, tipping his head back and closing his eyes. “Yeah. I mean, none of us are the same as when we left, you don’t fight a war without changing. But it’s more...obvious, I guess, for Matt and I.”

 

“I had noticed that, yeah.” Ryou kept his tone carefully neutral, hating the way his brother’s shoulders hunched just a little at that confirmation. “You guys went through hell, both of you. You can’t help that. And yeah, it changed you. Trauma does that. But you know what? You haven’t changed as much as I think  _ you _ think you have.”

 

Takashi’s head shot up, grey eyes snapping back open to stare at him. “Come again?”

 

Grinning, Ryou flopped back on the bed and started counting off on his fingers. “One, you totally older-brother the rest of your team just like you do Keith. I dunno where you got that instinct from, considering you never actually  _ had _ a younger sibling before him, but speaking as an older brother, you’re good at it.”

 

“I’m the team leader.” Takashi protested, cheeks going pink. “It’s my job to look after them.”

 

“Like you wouldn’t have done it even if you weren’t.” He laughed at his brother’s offended sputtering and kept going. “Two, you’re trying to do the right thing and help people regardless of the impact on your own health and safety.” He lifted his head and shot the other a knowing look. “And again, you’d do it Black Paladin or not. Pretty sure even if you hadn’t ended up going straight back into space, you’d have spent the last year rallying the Garrison or something instead of, y’know, recovering from a terrifying ordeal.”

 

Takashi’s cheeks were more red than pink now, but he kept his mouth shut because Ryou was right and they both knew it.

 

He pushed himself back up into a sitting position and gave his brother a soft smile. “And three. You’re happiest talking about the good things you’ve seen out there.”

 

That statement was met by a raised eyebrow, Takashi adjusting his folded arms a little. “I’m not sure what you mean by that.”

 

“I mean that no matter what else you’re doing out there, or what you’ve been through, you’re still living your dreams in some small way.”

 

“What--”

 

“To explore strange new worlds, to seek out new life and new civilizations, to boldly go where no--” He cut off with a yelp of laughter as Takashi jumped on him, cheeks flaming red, and tried to stifle him with the pillow. “Hey! Get off!”

 

“Not until you promise never to breathe a word of that to the others!”

 

“What, and give up my blackmail that easily? I’m not stupid, Jean Luc Picard!”

 

“ _ You told me you deleted those!” _

 

Downstairs in the kitchen, Izumi, Minako, and Takuya exchanged relieved smiles at the sound of their sons’ laughter echoing down the stairs.

 

______

 

Rosa frowned, pausing on the edge of the slope where the grass gave way to soft sand.

 

Down below, most of her children, nieces, and nephews were sporting in the waves, a few of them using the Blue Lion’s nose as a high dive to her obvious delight. Even as she watched, Antonio cannonballed off the end of her muzzle to splash a shrieking Fernan and laughing Kurogane, while closer to shore Alej was giving as good as he got in a wrestling match with Novia despite the fact that his prosthetic legs were up on the beach, resting on a towel to keep the sand off them. All in all, everyone was having a good time, enjoying being together again.

 

With one exception.

 

Picking her way carefully across the hot sands, she sat down beside Alonza where he sat hugging his knees to his chest against the slope of a dune. He’d been wearing the same miserable expression since he arrived when he didn’t think anyone was paying attention, especially around Alej and Kurogane, and while she’d tried to give him time to sort himself out, he only had a couple more days here and she refused to let him spend them all being unhappy, not when she might be able to do something about it. “Talk to me, baby. What’s wrong?”

 

She saw his shoulders stiffen as he plucked at some stray grasses. “What? Nothing’s wrong.”

 

Scowling, she swatted the back of his head. “Don’t give me that crap, Alonza. You think I can’t tell when something’s bothering you? Or because you’re a paladin now you think you’re too good to open up to your Mami?” Not that he would ever think that, but if it got him to open up…

 

“N-No, Mami, it’s not like that!” He yelped, rubbing the back of his head. “It’s just...I dunno, it’s stupid…”

 

“If it’s upsetting you, it’s not stupid. I know I’ve told you that before.”

 

Alonza groaned, burying his face in his knees. “I knoooow...It’s just really complicated.”

 

Rosa sighed, crossing her legs and stretching. “I’m not going anywhere.” She assured him. She had all the time in the world when her children needed her.

 

There was a pause as he worried at his lower lip with his teeth, staring out at the water. Alej had instigated a game of tag and was evading all of Leandro’s efforts at tagging him back with almost lazy ease as he taunted his brother, only to shriek as Kurogane ambushed him and scooped him out of the water long enough for Leandro to tag him and swim off laughing at the indignant accusations of cheating being hurled at his back and at Kurogane, who silenced his partner with a kiss before dropping him unceremoniously back into the water.

 

Finally, Alonza sighed. “Okay. So, it’s kind of a long story, so hear me out, okay?” He yanked at the grass again. “So...you remember we told you about Zarkon and Haggar, right? Two of the big bads of the Galra Empire?”

 

“I remember, yes.” She couldn’t quite suppress a scowl at the thought of the atrocities they’d committed. Her sons’ recounting of the history of the war had been thin on details, but she’d paid enough attention in school, and seen enough of the marks on Takashi Shirogane and Matthew Holt that she could easily fill in the blanks. “What about them?”

 

“Well...We found out a while ago that Zarkon was the original Black Paladin. And that was a whole big mess and caused a bunch of problems, although I think we managed to deal with those.”

 

She blinked in surprise at that. The leader of the Empire, a former paladin? And not just any, but the leader? How did that happen, that a monster could end up at the controls of a machine intended to protect? “...Alright.” She said slowly. “And Haggar?”

 

Alonza winced at the name, looking away. “...Turns out she’s the original Blue Paladin?”

 

Rosa’s head whipped around to stare at the Blue Lion, standing in the water beyond her family. The giant machine seemed to sense her gaze, the head turning slightly to regard her with those gleaming golden eyes for a moment before looking away again. For some odd reason, she almost had an impression of shame from the thing, regret for choices past, despite the fact their voices were much too low to be heard from that far away.

 

“I see…” She said slowly. “You’re upset because your predecessor turned out to be a bad person? Sweetheart, her actions don’t reflect on you any more than Zarkon’s reflect on Shiro. At least, I’m assuming you don’t blame him for the things Zarkon has done?”

 

Alonza shook his head violently at once. “Of course not!” He snapped, sounding almost indignant. “Shiro’s a great guy! Like, practically the opposite of Zarkon! I don’t even know how that quiznack was ever a match for any of the Lions, let alone Black. Love and will, my butt!”

 

Chuckling, she shifted a bit closer and put an arm around her son’s shoulders. “Alright, and you’re nothing like Haggar. So why is this bothering you?”

 

He stilled, head dropping to stare at the sands. “...It’s different. Haggar did more to hurt us directly than Zarkon ever did, both times.” He jerked his head slightly toward the water to indicate his time-travelling counterpart, now receiving a seaweed necklace from Lur. “And she did it with abilities, aspects, that I’m supposed to have too. And I just…”

 

Her heart ached at the guilt in his eyes as he lifted his head, guilt for actions that weren’t even his.

 

“...I don’t understand how they can even trust me, when I have the same abilities as her. I mean, she literally used them to make Shiro hurt all of them and try to kill Keith in the other timeline, and Shiro almost died  _ again _ when she took him over on the Weblum’s Breath! After everything she’s done, I dunno how Keith can even stand to  _ look _ at me, let alone--” He cut off his agitated ranting abruptly, jaw clacking shut and cheeks going red before he quickly folded his arms across his knees and buried his face in them.

 

“Keith? What’s Keith got to--” She stopped, all the pieces falling into place. Kurogane’s assurance that Keith’s feelings for her son were already present. Keith’s welcoming smile to Alonza at dinner that first night on the Castle of Lions that suddenly became standoffishness and silence the morning after Coran had taken Alonza and Alej away to speak with them. Alonza’s lingering sorrow, and the longing way he watched Alej and Kurogane interact. It all added up to exactly one thing. “ _ Alonza Teodosio Vidal McClain-Martinez what did you do. _ ” She hissed.

 

Alonza yelped, arms going up automatically to protect his head in anticipation of another scolding swat. “Nothing! I didn’t do anything!”

 

Rosa pinned her son with her firmest stare, the one that said ‘You and I both know you’re lying to me, now exactly how mad do you want to make me by keeping it up?’ and waited.

 

There was several seconds’ silence between them, his cheeks going redder and redder, until he broke eye contact and looked away. “...He told me he was in love with me and I told him I couldn’t return his feelings because I was no good for him.” He mumbled.

 

Her stare turned into a gape for a moment before she pressed her fingers to her forehead and took a deep breath. Of course he did. No one in their family self-sabotaged like Alonza did, for all he was also the most big-hearted of her children. Raising him had been a challenge, trying to learn to see the emotions behind his smiles and make sure his needs were actually being met. His ADHD diagnosis in particular had been a wake-up call, when they learned that their ‘problem child’ who freely admitted he didn’t sit still or pay attention in class or do his homework on time was, in fact, a child with a problem, who required special help instead of discipline.

 

(She would never forget the slack-jawed,  _ stunned _ expression on his face a week afterwards when he silently handed her another failed test to sign for the teacher and she’d leaned down to hug him tight and told him that it was okay, it wasn’t his fault. So much of his self-doubt was because of her, and always would be.)

 

Rosa exhaled slowly, counting to five. Aggravation wouldn’t help, no matter how ridiculous the whole thing was. Calm reassurance and a level head was what her boy needed from her right now.

 

“Okay.” She said finally. “Let me make sure I’ve got this straight. Keith loves you, and trusts you enough to tell you so, or at least he did before you all realized Haggar was a previous paladin. And you think the fact that she was the blue paladin before you--”

 

“First blue paladin. There was another blue paladin between us, her apprentice.” Alonza stared down at the sand, drawing squiggles in it with his finger. “He didn’t betray his team, though.”

 

She heaved another exasperated sigh. “Fine. First blue paladin. You think that makes you a bad person because it means you can do some of the things she can, things she used to hurt people you care about. Because your job used to be hers. Have I got that right, sweetheart?” She regarded him steadily, careful to keep her expression neutral. It was silly, but self-doubt was rarely rational.

 

He must have been thinking along the same lines, though, because his next words shone a little more light on the situation. “I’m scared I’ll just be a constant reminder of what he almost lost because of her.”

 

Ah. She mulled that over for a moment, trying to sort through the story she’d been told days earlier to find a counterexample. “Does Princess Allura,” she said slowly, hoping she was remembering correctly. She’d been less focused on the parts of the story that didn’t immediately concern her children. “Consider Shiro a constant reminder of what Zarkon took from her?”

 

His finger stopped its endless looping path through the sand as he lifted his head slightly, cheeks darkening. “No? At least I don’t think so? She doesn’t really  _ talk _ about her feelings much, at least not with us, but she’s not always good at hiding them.” He said slowly, clearly thinking the question over. “She was kind of a jerk to Keith for a while when we found out he was half-Galra, and that was after we’d known her and fought with her for  _ months _ . If being around another black paladin bothered her, we probably would’ve known about it a lot sooner.” He grimaced. “So, yeah, I guess she doesn’t.”

 

“And they don’t have romantic feelings to make them biased, either.” Rosa pointed out, smiling slightly as she remembered the adoring way Shiro had looked at his old crewmate, Matthew Holt. That attachment was plain as day. She sighed and pulled her son closer against her side. “Alonza, baby, I may not know your teammates as well as you do, but I’m fairly certain the only one who thinks badly of you for having Haggar as your predecessor is you. And as for your abilities...I highly doubt you would ever use them the way she did.”

 

The way he shuddered at the very thought was answer enough and she kissed the top of his head. “There you go. I know they’re hard thoughts to let go of, but you really are worrying about nothing.”

 

“I guess…” Alonza didn’t sound convinced, but he seemed more relaxed than he had when she first sat down. He turned his head and gave her a strained smile, leaning into her a little. “Thanks, Mami. I really missed you.”

 

Her heart swelled with warmth and she kissed his forehead again. “I missed you too, with all my heart. Now, you think about what I said and talk to that boy when you feel ready, alright? I  _ know _ you like him back.”

 

His cheeks turned scarlet and he hastily lurched to his feet. “Okay, thanks, I’m gonna go swim now!” He blurted and trotted down the beach toward the water.

 

Rosa chuckled as she watched him go, and tried to ignore the ache settling into her heart. Alonza-- _ all _ of them, actually--deserved to be happy, to be children still as much as they were able. They were still so young. And yet they had no choice but to set aside their innocence, their dreams, their plans for the future, with the weight of countless lives sitting heavy on their shoulders.

 

Her gaze flicked to Alej and Kurogane, exchanging blinding smiles before the former splashed his partner playfully, then back to Alonza, just stepping into the surf.

 

_ Please God _ , she prayed silently,  _ at least let him have this. _

 

_______

 

“Ugh, this is fucking weird.” Katie groused from the back seat, fumbling for a moment before she managed to get her seatbelt done up with an audible click. “When did I last even use a seatbelt? I mean, the Lions have harnesses, but that’s totally different, and we don’t always--”

 

“Katlynn Uhura Holt, I sincerely hope you’re not about to admit to not wearing your seatbelt while flying your giant space robot.” Colleen admonished with mock severity while Matt smothered a laugh in the passenger seat beside her. She could see her daughter’s cheeks going crimson in the rearview mirror.

 

“Noooo, Of course not, Mom! Why would you even suggest that I would ever do something as potentially dangerous as riding in a moving vehicle with my seatbelt off?” Katie shot back with a roll of her eyes, her voice practically dripping with fake-ass sincerity that made her brother’s face go red with the effort of not laughing. “I could risk my  _ life _ doing that!”

 

“Glad to hear it.” Colleen said, pretending to be very prim and proper as she did up her own seatbelt. “Please keep all seatbelts securely fastened--”

 

“And all tray tables secured and seat backs in the upright position. I know, mom.”

 

That one proved to be too much for Matt, who doubled over wheezing.

 

Colleen couldn’t help but exchange pleased grins with her daughter. Then her attention was diverted by one of the soldiers forming a protective cordon around her car knocking on the window and gesturing to the path they’d cleared to the gate. She nodded an affirmative, shifted out of park, and drove slowly out onto the highway and turned towards town, keeping a wary eye out in case any of the gawkers still lining the fence decided to jump into the road.

 

Media circuses were something she’d had plenty of practice with over the years, and when she’d decided to take Matt and Katie back to the house for a few hours while the rest of the team was away so they could pack their things to take with them, she’d known it was going to be a hassle and a half. Fortunately, Iverson was more than willing to accommodate them (She still wasn’t over the fact that the bastard had been secretly trying to  _ help _ them bring the truth of the Kerberos mission to light) with a military escort to keep the vultures off them. She could see the garish orange jeep in her rearview mirror, coming along in case any unwanted guests showed up at the house.

 

“We could have taken Green, you know.” Katie pointed out, watching the desert roll by outside her window.

 

“Nowhere to park her, sweetheart.” Colleen pointed out, taking the exit into town. “Or one of the Castle’s pods, at least not without attracting a lot of attention. I’ve been away from the house a long time, so I’m hoping it won’t be ringed with media hounds the way the Garrison is.”

 

Katie hummed an acknowledgement and continued gazing out at the streets. Matt was doing the same, silent and distant. How must it feel for him, to be back here at last after the better part of three years, two of which were spent believing you would never come home? She couldn’t even imagine it.

 

The yard and street were, thankfully, as empty as she’d hoped as she pulled into the driveway, the Garrison vehicle parking on the street. If they were lucky, it might even stay that way until they left. But if not, that was the soldiers’ problem, not hers. She parked the car and strode up the walk to the door, swapping car keys for house as she went.

 

Opening the door, though, she faltered. The last time she’d been in this house, over a year ago, it had echoed large and painfully empty around her. Matt and Sam were barely a year gone, then, and Katie newly vanished in a so-called accident whose pieces refused to fit together in her mind and that set the beginning of a pattern that all her years as a lawyer screamed at her not to ignore. The signs of her hasty departure were still evident in the newspapers and mail scattered across the table, the half-empty dishwasher, the coats she’d knocked down when she grabbed her jacket on the way out the door, all now coated in a layer of dust. But it was the memories that jumped out at her the most, of shock and disbelief and deep, soul-destroying grief.

 

Matt’s touch on her arm startled her out of her reverie, and she glanced over at him. His gaze was heavy with understanding as he looked at her silently for a long moment before limping past her into the house with Katie bouncing beside him.

 

Colleen took a deep breath, bracing herself, and stepped inside. They came here for a reason, and the sooner they got that done, the sooner she could escape the memories that dogged her heels of happier times. Her children had already disappeared up the stairs and she followed, turning left at the top into the dusty bedroom she had shared for almost thirty years with the man she loved.

 

Focus. Work to be done. She hauled a suitcase out of the back of the closet and threw it on the bed before turning to the dresser and pausing. As a lawyer, she had generally dressed in heels and skirts, blazers and make-up. Ideal for striking terror into the hearts of defense attorneys and politicians. But where she was headed now, she’d need a very different uniform.

 

“You always did like seeing me in your clothes.” She murmured to the empty air, and turned decisively toward the right-side drawers.

 

Khaki and denim and thick cotton shirts, practical and durable, would be her armor now, and the lines grief had etched into her face would be her warpaint. All-weather jackets, sturdy boots, strong belts, and lots of pockets, because you never knew what weapons you might need. By the time she was done, the drawers on the right stood empty, the ones on the left untouched, and the suitcase and a large duffle were stuffed full of clothes and a few other odds and ends. Only a small space had been allotted to keepsakes--a few photos of her family, an old book of quotes that had been a treasured gift from Sam. Everything else was practical.

 

“Mom?” Matt’s startled voice broke the silence as she tucked the last shirt into the bag. “Um, what are you wearing?” When she looked up, both he and Katie were standing in the doorway, bewildered expressions on their faces.

 

And they had every right to sound confused. While packing, she’d traded her skirt and blouse for worn but serviceable jeans and a plain long-sleeved shirt, topped with a windbreaker that bore half a dozen large pockets and paired with sturdy sneakers. Her make-up had been washed off and her jewellery put away with the sole exception of her wedding band. It was a way she hadn’t dressed in a very long time, not since before her children were born.

 

Instead of answering right away, she zipped up the duffel bag and slung it onto her shoulder, taking a last glance around the room to make sure she hadn’t left behind anything she would miss. Finding nothing, she turned toward her children and smiled. “You two didn’t think I was planning on letting you go off back into space without me, did you?” Her smiled sharpened, becoming the feral shark-grin that never failed to put the fear of God and Holt into anyone that crossed her path. “The Galra want a war, and I intend to give them Hell.”


	46. Chapter 46

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: slight grief/mourning stuff in the Alejandro section, if gravemarkers/cemeteries bother you be careful. Big warning for well-intentioned emotional manipulation, an argument between parent and child, and an intense emotional breakdown in the Hunk section--you may want to skip the entire scene if any of this bothers you.
> 
> I think this is my fastest update ever! Chapter 49 was one that I've been waiting to write almost since the beginning of the story, and I'm super hyped for when I'll get to post it~
> 
> Also, if any of my readers are going to Anime North this year, keep an eye out for me! Look for either a casual-dressed Pidge (hopefully with a stuffed Rover) or a China from Hetalia, with a Yuri on Ice backpack~

Kovirak watched from the training room’s control booth as down below, Keith ducked and wove his way expertly inside the guard of one of the gladiator bots and cut it to pieces, spinning away to block another enemy’s attack before the pieces of the first had even hit the ground.

 

His fighting style was unique, a one-of-a-kind patchwork of Garrison combat training, something else structured that was probably Altean, a handful of Galran moves she recognized as Marmoran techniques that she suspected he’d picked up during his Trials and Empire strategies he would have learned from the soldiers he fought, and, unlaying it all, the sort of structureless, rough-and-ready forms of someone who taught themselves to fight in order to survive. All in all, it was representative of Keith himself, and the journey he’d taken to get where he was now.

 

A journey she’d missed.

 

The last time she’d seen him, he’d been a tiny cub of barely three years, face blotchy from crying as he clung desperately to her fur despite Thomas’s efforts to pry his fingers loose. Too young to truly understand what was happening, but somehow he’d known she was leaving and wouldn’t be coming back. Breaking his hold and turning her back as she stepped out of their haven of love into the dark desert night had been the hardest thing she’d ever had to do. The only thing that gave her the strength to do it was the knowledge there were human soldiers out there, too close, who would kill her little Keith if he was lucky and put him in a cage for the rest of his life if he wasn’t. So she’d left, and she’d fought, and she’d run, and later, as she piloted her jury-rigged ship with one hand and pressed bandages to stem the bleeding with the other, she’d cried for the fact that she would never see her son again.

 

And now here he was, sixteen years later, right in front of her eyes. On the verge of adulthood even before he’d been thrust into the front lines of an intergalactic war she’d hoped he would never see, and with strength in his soul and wariness in his eyes that spoke to all he’d endured. Guilt churned in her gut with the knowledge that just three years after she’d left him, he’d lost Thomas as well. Her kit had been all alone for years and she hadn’t been there to protect him. She knew,  _ knew _ , that he’d suffered, even if she hadn’t let herself pry before he was willing to open up to her on his own, knew that he’d needed her all this time and she had let him down.

 

Let them both down. She was still adjusting to the fact that where she’d had one son before, she now had two, the other six years older than the one in front of her now. But those six years, part of a life that had taken a different course than Keith’s now would, might as well have been a thousand for the difference in the way Kurogane looked at her. He avoided her when he could and ignored her when he couldn’t. And after everything she’d done, all she could do was respect his choice and give him his space.

 

Down below, Keith gasped as one of the bots caught a lucky blow against his side. The simulation was gradually increasing in difficulty as he took out one opponent after another, and with five gladiators now ringing him he was starting to have trouble. Kovirak hesitated, glancing toward the emergency stop on the control panel. Surely he’d have the sense to stop the session if he couldn’t handle it, no matter how irritable he’d been the last couple of days.

 

Metal shrieked against metal, grating on her ears, and her gaze darted back to the battle below just in time to see two bots crumpling and a third being cleaved in two by a familiar dark grey blade. Keith didn’t pause, pursuing the remaining two who were now backpedalling away from him, and making short work of them with a sword in each hand. Three more dropped from the ceiling some distance behind him and he whirled, raising his Marmora sword to block blaster fire before charging in once more.

 

She couldn’t keep her eyes off it, following the blue glow of the stone in the hilt and the flash of the keen edge. It was the only thing of herself that she’d been able to leave with him, a keepsake and at the same time a promise that from that day forward, everything she did would be for him first, and the Blades second.

 

Kovirak grimaced, re-crossing her arms restlessly. If she hadn’t already given it to Keith, Kolivan would be ordering her stripped of it when he passed judgement on her. Beyond that...she couldn’t even guess what his punishment might be for all her actions had cost. Whatever he chose she would accept. She deserved it. The only mercy she could hope for was that he might spare her life for Keith’s sake. She’d promised, after all, and even for restitution she refused to break that word.

 

A loud crash down below refocused her attention back on the fight itself. The bots, four of them currently, were much faster now as the room increased the difficulty level. Keith had thrown one of them into another, but was struggling to press the advantage against the other two. A moment later, one got up inside his guard and sent him tumbling with a brutal fist to the ribs. He rolled, trying to get back to his feet, the gladiators chasing, and her eyes widened, hand reaching for the button--

 

“End training sequence!”

 

The bots froze, a blade inches from the visor of Keith’s helmet, before sagging into inactivity. Keith rolled onto his back and lay there, chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. Kovirak felt the tension abruptly leaving her body, relief making her light-headed. 

 

He was a talented fighter, but god, she couldn’t stand the thought of seeing him hurt, paladin or not. At least now that she was here she had the opportunity to help keep him safe. And vrekt, she intended to do just that, Kolivan be damned.

 

_______

 

“Are you sure about this?” Kurogane asked quietly, adjusting the cloth-wrapped bundle over his shoulder.

 

Picking his way carefully across the sand in the dim moonlight, Alejandro nodded. “Yeah. I mean, I love them but...this isn’t for them. I think Blue will be willing. If she isn’t though, then we’ll talk.”

 

Kurogane hummed and nodded, following alongside and glancing around. At this hour they were the only ones out and about, the beach stretching emptily to either side of them.

 

Alejandro felt Blue’s welcoming purr in his head before he saw her, a dark silhouette against the stars, and smiled fondly. “Hey, beautiful.” He whispered. “Think you could do us a little favour? I know I’m not Lance, but we need to take a little side trip before we leave Earth.”

 

Tinged with a soft rejection of that self-dismissal, her mind brushed his and he opened to her, letting her read his intentions and purpose. Her response was immediate, water rushing around her legs as she stepped closer to shore and lowering her head for them to step inside. He felt her sorrow and understanding, and her eagerness to help.

 

“That’s a yes, then.” Kurogane laughed softly. “Thanks, Blue.”

 

She growled a quiet response as they stepped into her airlock, the door hissing shut behind them. By the time they reached the cockpit she’d already launched, streaking directly upwards toward the stars. Leaving her to handle her own flying, Alejandro went to a one of the storage units in the back and pulled out two spare flight suits and helmets. Much like the ones Allura wore, simple and unarmored, they were intended as emergency back-ups if a Paladin was stuck in a hostile environment with their suit integrity compromised.

 

“Here.” He tossed one to Kurogane, who caught it one handed and quickly started shucking off his clothes after setting down the long bundle with care, despite the fact they both knew it was far from fragile. Alejandro changed quickly as well. It wouldn’t take long to get where they were going.

 

In fact, Blue’s gentle mental nudge alerted him just as he was securing his helmet, and when he lifted his head his breath caught in his throat.

 

Outside, rocky icefields stretched to a horizon that was much, much closer than Earth’s would have been. The brown-and-white face of a barren planet hung overhead, barely illuminated by a distant Sun, and partially eclipsed a particularly large moon. And off to one side, the low, blocky form of a spacecraft, standing alone and forgotten on the ice. The name painted on her nose wasn’t visible from here, but he knew what it said anyway.

 

_ Persephone _ .

 

“It looks the same.” He whispered. A few subjective weeks ago and six objective years in the future they had stood in this very same spot, in a Blue older and battered and alone, out of allies, out of friends, out of hope. Kerberos had remained unchanged across those years, unaffected by the war and death raging across the universe, and the very  sameness of it set a curl of terror chilling in Alejandro’s chest that maybe he’d dreamed the whole thing, they hadn’t gone back in time at all, they were still stuck in a lost future with only death to look forward to--

 

Kurogane’s hands turned his head forcefully away the view at the same time as Blue’s furious snarl of denial cut off his train of thought, and he realized he was almost hyperventilating. He let his partner press their foreheads together with a clink of their helmets and forced himself to try to match the other’s breathing until his own evened out. Once his heart was no longer racing out of control, he offered up a shaky smile. “Sorry.”

 

“Don’t be.” Kurogane murmured, kissing his helmet over his forehead in soft reassurance. “Are you sure you’re up for this? We don’t have to. Or we can do it on Arus.”

 

Alejandro shook his head violently in rejection of that. “No. No, it needs to be here, where it all started.” He took a deep breath and shook out his limbs, forcing a weak smile. “I’ll be okay, really.”

 

The other didn’t look convinced, but didn’t push. He just sighed and turned away, scooping up the bundle again and heading for the airlock. Alejandro followed, resisting the urge to glance over his shoulder at the view screens.

 

“Where do we want to put it?” Kurogane asked, pausing at the bottom of the ramp and looking around. “By the Persephone? No.” He dismissed the idea as soon as he’d said it. “Not there.”

 

“No. That’s Matt and Sam’s.” Alejandro bit his lip thoughtfully. “Um…” He studied their surroundings. Some distance beyond the bulk of the Persephone, a ridge of torn-up ice caught his eye. It took him a moment to realize what it was, and when he did certainty filled him and he pointed. Following his gesture, Kurogane nodded.

 

It took only moments to bound across the ice in Kerberos’s minimal gravity. The ridge marked the edge of a long trench several meters deep, the ice and rock ripped away by a Galran tractor beam two years earlier. The moment their lives had all gone to hell, even if not all of them had been aware of it at the time. Kurogane leapt unhesitatingly from the edge of the great gouge in the landscape, and Alejandro followed. Getting out would be easy enough. Low gravity made for easy athletic feats.

 

Scanning the trench, he pointed again, towards the far end, away from the Persephone. Where the crew had been captured in the beam’s pull. It was the most fitting place he could think of.

 

At their chosen site, they gathered rocks to secure the base. Then Kurogane unwrapped their cargo and put it in position. He held it straight while Alejandro used the rocks and an Olkari-made bonding agent to cement it permanently into place. The glue set quickly, and they stepped back to regard their work.

 

The object was a shaft two meters long and four inches across on each of its four sides. Made on the Long Wind’s fabricator when they could beg a few minutes’ use between the manufacturing of replacement hull plates and structural supports, the entire thing was a single, solid black diamond, strong enough to last millions of years undisturbed. The only thing that broke the smooth sheen of its sides was the bright glint of the coloured opals, green, yellow, and two sets of white, that formed words on each of its faces.

 

_ Takashi Shirogane _

 

_ Hunk Garrett _

 

_ Katlynn Holt _

 

_ Princess Allura of Altea _

 

Below each name, two dates rested. One in Earth’s dating system, the other in the one used across the universe, aside from Allura’s which were both in the latter. Birth, and death.

 

A memorial.

 

Alejandro’s chest ached as he looked at it, his lungs thick and body heavy. They may have found a new family here, in this time’s younger paladins, but they could never replace the brothers and sisters they’d lost. They’d fought so hard, given up their dreams, their childhoods, their lives, and in the end it had all been for nothing.

 

He should pray. That was what you did at graves, right? But every prayer he’d ever learned felt hollow and empty under the dim light of the deadly stars.

 

He felt Kurogane’s hand brush his and laced their fingers, both gazing at their marker for their dead, each silent with their own thoughts.

 

They stayed that way for a long time.

 

______

 

Allura paced down the corridors, trying to ignore the way her footsteps echoed in the empty passageways. Once, it would have been impossible to go for more than a dobosh without seeing another person, no matter where you went in the Castle of Lions. But now…

 

She normally tried not to think about it. Tried to keep to the inhabited sections of the Castle where she could hear other voices, see signs that there were other people still there with here. But right now nearly everyone was gone. Lance, Alejandro, Kurogane, Hunk, and Shiro had all taken their respective families away from the Castle to spend time in their homes, and Matt and Pidge had gone with their mother to collect their possessions from their old home. And it left the Castle emptier than she had ever seen it. While it wasn’t the first time they’d all been away from the ship, normally that happened during missions when she was needed on the command deck and had something to do. Something to distract her. She swallowed hard, increasing her pace slightly and trying not to glance at the endless doors that hid rooms unused for ten thousand cycles.

 

When she reached the large double-doors of the holoprojection chamber, though, she paused with her hand raised to knock. What was she doing? She was a Princess, not a child to be scared of an empty ship. And yet she couldn’t shake the way her insides twisted at the silence, the feeling that she might turn a corner and stumble across her father or a servant or one of the old Paladins conflicting with the knowledge that she never would.

 

Allura took a deep breath. There was no one here to judge her for her nervousness. And how many times had the young paladins commented on the eeriness of the empty corridors? Swallowing again, she forced herself to rap her knuckles against the door.

 

A moment later it whirred open to reveal Coran’s gentle smile, and she struggled to suppress a wave of relief that almost made her weak in the knees. He raised an eyebrow as he caught sight of her. “Princess. Everything alright?”

 

“I...yes. Yes. I’m sorry to interrupt.” She couldn’t quite suppress the faint embarrassed glow of her cheek markings. “I just thought you might like some company.”

 

A thin excuse, and the searching look he gave her told her he wasn’t fooled for a moment, but he twirled his moustache cheerfully and gestured for her to step into the room. “Of course! Can never have too many eyes and ears watching for useful information. Although I think we can skip this memory of the trade talks with the Elskroni. Rather tedious, and I don’t believe they had much to offer beyond medicinal mud.”

 

She laughed in spite of herself, relaxing in his familiar presence. “Yes, I suppose we can afford to spare ourselves that one. Have you found anything more interesting in the last couple of rotations?” She asked as she stepped into the room, glancing over the frozen projections of a conference table and diplomats.

 

“Nothing that we don’t already know, I’m afraid.” With a sigh, Coran labelled and filed the memory and dismissed the projection, and Allura found herself trying not to tense as the walls of the room appeared once more, painful memories lurking at the back of her mind before she pushed them forcefully away. But Coran must have caught the movement, because he frowned over at her, his hands stilling on the control panel. “Allura, you know you can be honest about how you’re feeling, don’t you? You don’t have to be the composed Princess every moment of every day.”

 

The comment hit so close to her thoughts from a few minutes earlier that she faltered, caught off-guard. Rather than answer immediately, she folded her arms across her stomach and turned away. “I’m the leader here, Coran, I need to set a good example, a  _ strong _ example for the Paladins and for our allies. If they were to see me falter…”

 

He sighed, moving closer and putting a hand on her shoulder. “If you falter, the paladins will not judge you. You are not a machine. You are a person, with feelings and fears just as they are. In fact,” Coran chuckled and shook his head. “If you ask me, it might bring you closer to them if you let them see your weaknesses. After all, you’ve seen the way they care for and support each other. They’ll do the same for you if you let them.”

 

She bit her lip and nodded reluctantly. She knew what he was talking about. They all compensated for each other’s weaknesses--Keith’s recklessness, Pidge’s drive to find her family, Shiro’s trauma--and steadied each other through their pain--Lance’s homesickness, Hunk’s guilt whenever they had to kill--and that was what allowed them to rise each day and continue the fight. They would have fallen apart long ago otherwise.

 

“Admitting fear is not a weakness, Allura.” Coran continued, his firm gaze locked on hers. “Nor is living your life when you can. Even Alfor allowed himself that. Behind closed doors, he wasn’t the King of Altea, he wasn’t the Yellow Paladin, he was merely Alfor, beloved husband of Linnata and myself. Free to laugh and complain and be free of judging eyes.”

 

“I know.” Allura gave a weak laugh, wiping at her eyes. “I remember when I was little, he always looked so annoyed whenever someone knocked at the door to our quarters. It took a long time for me to realize he was someone important outside those rooms.” She thought for a moment. “Or that  _ I _ was, for that matter.”

 

Coran nodded approvingly, giving her a fond smile. “Exactly. Now let the Castle be your quarters, and the paladins the family who will accept you as you are, with all your flaws and foibles, little flower. I can say with certainty that they will.”

 

Heaving a sigh, she let herself lean in against him and accepted the comforting embrace he wrapped around her. “...I suppose I could try.” She closed her eyes. “I’m sorry for interrupting your work. The emptiness of the Castle was getting to me.”

 

“Not to worry. I always have time to spare for my daughter.”

 

_______

 

He’d felt the tension in the air all day.

 

It had been building ever since he woke up this morning, as Mama and Mom helped him finish packing the things he wanted to take back to the Castle with him--clothes, keepsakes, pictures, and two large crates of herbs and spices--and he taught them to use the communicators they were each leaving with their families so they could keep in touch, and with the day drawing to a close, Hunk knew it was sure to come to a head soon. Today was his last day here. In the morning he’d be returning to the Castle of Lions, and a few days after that, back to space. Back to the war.

 

He swallowed hard, trying not to let his hands shake as he diced vegetables. It was hard to say which he was dreading more. The inevitable confrontation, or going back to the fight.

 

A gentle hand on his shoulder made him jump and he looked up to see his Mama’s soft smile. She tilted her head wordlessly toward his cutting board and he nodded, scooping them into the offered pan before moving to check on the pork slow-frying at the back of the stove. It was a familiar rhythm, the two of them working together in easy silence to make dinner, and it eased the tightness in his chest a little.

 

When they sat down to eat, though, the tension was back, the three of them dancing around the elephant in the room as they talked about nothing while Asoese chattered on, oblivious to the atmosphere. Hunk talked to her gratefully, relieved by the normality.

 

It lasted until she went to bed.

 

When he came back downstairs from tucking her in and kissing her goodnight, Mom was leaning against the back of the couch, arms folded across her chest. The grim expression on her face was enough to send anxiety spiking through his veins.

 

“I don’t want you going back.” Flat. Blunt. She never used that tone unless she was upset.

 

Hunk sighed, pressing his palms together and taking a deep breath. He didn’t want to do this. He was tired, scared, and he just wanted to part from his family with happy memories to hold him together. “Mom. Please. We talked about this. You know I have to.”

 

“No. I refuse to believe that my son, that  _ children _ , fighting on the front lines, is the only possible option against the Galra!” Fetuilelagi snapped back. “The universe has survived against them for ten thousand years so far, they can afford a few more months to  _ find someone else _ !”

 

This again. “They really can’t, Mom.” He said wearily. “It could take years. Years that we don’t have. I mean, Allura could pilot one of the Lions in a pinch, but she wouldn’t fit as well, and when you’re in battle every moment counts. We’re way better off with me as Yellow’s Paladin.” He couldn’t quite keep the pleading note out of his voice, wordlessly begging her to just let the matter drop.

 

The comment about Allura, though, was the wrong thing to admit, as Fetuilelagi’s eyes narrowed dangerously and her clenched fists shook. “Let her do it.” She growled. “If you love us, you’ll let her do it, and stay home where it’s safe instead of risking your life because you think you want to be a hero!”

 

Ever since they’d started fighting against the Galra, his sleep had been troubled. Sometimes nightmares woke him screaming, other times fears plagued his mind until he gave up on rest and sought the distraction of his workbench or the comfort of his Lion. Lately, though, they’d gotten more frightening and more frequent. Images conjured from Alejandro and Kurogane’s descriptions of their pasts, and memories of the horrifying scenes from Trepan Kev playing out in a thousand scenarios that all ended with Pidge dying. And after their desperate battle a week ago? Every single night had held nightmares that made him afraid to go to sleep.

 

And now, to hear an accusation like that from one of the people he cared about most, someone he was trying to  _ protect _ by putting himself through this hell? While something deep inside him reminded him that she was just scared for him, just didn’t want to lose him, didn’t want to admit to the fact that none of them had any choice in this, the fact that she could even consider the possibility that he would choose something like this was the last straw on top of the load he was already carrying and afraid to acknowledge even to himself.

 

Something inside him snapped.

 

“Do you think I  _ want this?! _ ” His voice went strident as he gestured to himself. His mom was brought up short by the outburst, mouth hanging open and eyes wide. He didn’t care. He kept going, words bubbling up out of him like a burst water main. 

 

“Do you think I  _ like _ risking my life every day to kill people who are just doing their jobs, just because we’re on opposite sides of this?! Knowing that one wrong move means me or someone I care about ends up hurt or dying or dead? Because no! I fucking  _ hate _ it!”

 

His eyes were burning, tears spilling down onto his cheeks. He was distantly aware that his Mama had rushed in from the kitchen, alerted by the yelling, that Asoese was calling from the top of the stairs in confusion, but all he could see was his mom’s wide brown eyes and the shock and horror on her face. “I don’t  _ want  _ to do this! I don’t! I wish I could just go upstairs and crawl into my bed and never leave it again! But I  _ can’t _ !”

 

His lungs heaved, fighting him as he sucked in a harsh breath. His hands shook, his pulse roared in his ears.

 

“Because you guys are a target now!  _ Earth _ is a target! It doesn’t  _ matter _ if I don’t want to fight, because Haggar doesn’t care! I have to keep fighting and killing and winning because if I don’t she’ll come to earth and  _ kill _ you!”

 

Images flashed across his mind. Asoese in prisoner purple, thin and ragged. La’ei sprawled in her own blood under a soldier’s gun. Fetuilelagi warped by metal and quintessence, leering at him with glowing yellow eyes over the barrel of his gun. His gut twisted and he gagged, trying not to be sick.

 

“I c-can’t, I can’t let her, I  _ won’t _ let her hurt you…” He choked painfully. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t see. His whole body was shaking.

 

Long arms wrapped around him, pulling him close, and a gentle hand stroked his hair as he broke down sobbing and clutching at whoever was holding him. His emotions were a tangled knot in his chest, suffocating him and making him nauseous and making the world tilt. All he could do was let the tears tumble out along with disjointed, half-formed thoughts and words and promises.

 

He wasn’t sure how much time passed before his tears ran dry and he sagged against his parents, empty and drained and feeling like he’d been pounded flat and hung out to dry. His chest still ached, but in a sore way instead of a tight one, and his throat and face felt raw.

 

Someone tilted his chin up and a tissue dried his cheeks with delicate care. His Mama’s concerned face, her own cheeks streaked with tears, peered at him as she worked before she hugged him tightly again. “I’m sorry, baby.” She whispered.

 

Another strong arm was wrapped around his back, his Mom hugging him with one arm and whispering a pained apology through tears, while the other clutched a distressed Asoese to her side. Fetuilelagi opened her mouth, searched for words, and closed it again when she found none. There was nothing to be said. It wouldn’t change what had to happen tomorrow, or the day after, or the rest of the war.

 

Hunk closed his eyes and leaned against them, trying to feel as safe and secure and protected from everything as he used to when he was younger and had no idea how bad the universe could be.


	47. Chapter 47

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: The first appearance of the brainwashing tag, in the Haggar scene at the end.
> 
> Sorry for the delay on this one, real life and my brain were ganging up on me. I actually wrote more than half this chapter today, which should tell you how the last few weeks have been for writing. Thanks for all your patience!
> 
> In other news, we're almost at the end of Arc 2! Chapter 51 should be the start of Arc 3: Matter. Yes, Arc 2 was very short, but I knew it would be. Only Arc 5 will be shorter.

Earth was a blue marble jutting over the horizon, swirling clouds obscuring the lines of familiar continents and oceans into a single jewel of mottled white, blue, green, and brown. From here, it looked utterly serene, the scattered debris still in orbit from the fight several days earlier too small to be seen at this distance.

 

Peering out of the habitat dome across the Lunar wasteland, Keith felt oddly disoriented for a moment, as if he’d slipped sideways into another reality, one without the Kerberos disaster or Galra conquerors, one where he’d graduated the Garrison and gone on to fly ordinary missions around Earth’s solar system. The thought was appealing, and at the same time frightening in a way he didn’t quite have the words for.

 

Before it could unsettle him too deeply, though, a dull  _ thud _ and muffled cursing from under a nearby console brought him jerking back down to earth. Or rather, the moon.

 

This wasn’t a Garrison mission. He was a paladin, and he was here to help install the last of the six small particle shield generators they’d managed to fit in Red’s cargo hold, destined for the various research substations scattered across the surface of the moon. Not that he had much to do now that the heavy lifting part and the hook-ups requiring two sets of hands were done. Picking his way carefully over the power cables twisting across the floor of the dome, he used his toe to nudge one of the legs sticking out from under the console in question. “Hey, you okay?”

 

“Just peachy.” Matt’s grumbling could be heard faintly. “Just banged my head. Again. These headlamps aren’t meant for wiring control panels by.”

 

“I’ll take your word for it. Let me know if you need help.” Keith muttered, leaning back against the edge of the console and crossing his arms. He could feel the stares of the substation’s crew, watching curiously from a safe distance. They didn’t seem to know what to make to the two of them, two kids compared to most of the people here, dressed in armored flight suits and flying a giant robot cat. But at least they were staying away. Pidge had been cursing up a storm on the comms earlier because one of another substation’s officers had objected to ‘a child screwing with sensitive equipment.’

 

Trying to ignore the eyes on him, he turned his head to look out at Red, stretched out comfortably on the launch pad. Somewhere else, he knew that Pidge and Allura were working on their fifth set of installations at another base, and Coran had sent the others out in teams as soon as they got back and loaded up. They had a tight schedule if they wanted to get all the premade defense system in place by the time the Icebringer ships were fully repaired and ready to launch.

 

A scraping noise beside him signalled the completion of the hardware hookups, Matt pushing himself carefully out from under the main computer for the dome’s electric generators and batteries and hauling himself upright. A moment later his fingers were flying over the keyboard and he had a USB pushed into a slot, installing the programs that would let the computer talk to the shield and the protocols for rapid activation. After all, a shield that took too long to turn on wouldn’t do anyone any good.

 

Not that these shields would hold up very long. Limited by the power available in the dome’s systems, they’d only stand up for a few minutes against a fighter barrage. Just long enough for the personnel stationed here to run to the emergency bunker currently under construction. But even that could mean the difference between life and death if the Galra came back, so in the shields went.

 

On Earth itself, things were going a little different. Voltron and its allies didn’t have the time or resources to construct local particle barrier generators for every city, and the planet didn’t have the resources to power a global shield. So instead Coran, Iverson, and the Icebringer engineers had collaborated on a design for shield generators that Earth could manufacture fairly easily, and a system for hooking them into a city’s entire power grid. The unfortunate trade-off was that once activated, the shields would divert all that power, leaving the city underneath blacked out, but the eventual consensus had been that if things were bad enough the shield needed to go up, then people were probably  _ already _ panicking and a black-out wasn’t going to make it that much  _ worse _ . Those would only last so long too, especially under a sustained bombardment, but it would buy time for a distress signal to reach the Castle and for Voltron to return to help, no matter where they happened to be.

 

Keith couldn’t help wondering how soon that would be.

 

“Alright, that should do it.” Matt’s voice drew his attention back to the task at hand. “Lieutenant Ng, is everything ready for a test run? Nothing running that a sudden power loss would cause problems for?”

 

“A-Ah, no. At least, I don’t think so. It should be fine.” The lieutenant, a nervous young man, hastily stepped forward, gaze flicking from Matt to Keith to the bulk of the shield generator sitting on the floor of the dome beside the main batteries and back to Matt. He swallowed and bobbed his head in a jerky nod like he wasn’t sure what level of deference he was supposed to show, and Keith tried not to let his irritation at the man’s twitchiness show.

 

Matt nodded, hitting a few more keys. Then, taking a breath, he tapped in the activation command.

 

The interior of the dome was plunged into blackness as every light went out except for emergency strips marking the exits. A fraction of a second later a faint blue glow overhead cast eerie shadows. Tipping his head back, Keith saw the familiar hexagonal pattern of a particle barrier arching overhead, the stars faint pinpricks between the lines. He had to suppress a chuckle at the awed exclamations from the soldiers and scientists, glad for the darkness that hid his smile. Although he had to agree with one of the hushed comments about it being beautiful. He didn’t usually have time to stop and appreciate the graceful design of the Castle’s shields, a typical Altean blend of function and elegance, and he allowed himself a long moment to admire the regular patterning and soft blue shade. 

 

Blue.

 

He didn’t want to think about blue. Or the things he associated with it. He tore his eyes away from the display and pulled up his wrist computer. Second stage of the test was to make sure that friendly rescuers could shut down the shield from outside if it happened to still be standing when they arrived so they could get at the bunker. He tapped out the authorization code and the shield vanished, drawing disappointed murmurs from the hypnotized personnel as the power from the generators resumed its normal course and the lights came back up.

 

After a moment they shook themselves back to their senses, and Lieutenant Ng approached them again.

 

“Thank you.” He said without preamble, holding out a hand to shake first with Matt, then with Keith. He seemed less anxious now, his shoulders sagging with weariness, and Keith belatedly realized that maybe the nervousness was more about how defenseless the place had been, with no protection and no escape if the Galra came back and some of his earlier irritation vanished in sympathy. “I gotta admit, I had my doubts about how much protection you’d actually be able to offer us up here, but after that display...well, hard to argue with that. So again, thank you. All of you.”

 

Matt’s smile was understanding as he started collecting his tools. “Believe me, we’re glad to be able to help. It’s not much, I’m afraid, I’m sure you’ve read the briefing kit by now--” the lieutenant nodded fervently “--so you know it’s only a stall measure.” He sighed, unplugging the USB drive and pocketing it. “I’d like to say I hope you won’t need it, but...I’m not that optimistic.”

 

“Even so, it gives us more of a chance than we had before.”

 

“That it does.” Matt’s agreement was sincere. “Come on, Keith, we need to head back down for the next load. Schedule to keep.”

 

As they headed for the main airlock, Keith frowned. They’d been working for hours, unloading the generators (an awkward process even in lunar gravity), hooking them up, and wiring them into the computers. Matt in particular had been crawling around under consoles and batteries, and the strain showed in the way he was favouring his bad leg. Silently, the red paladin nudged his Lion, and felt her warm rumble of assent in his mind. When the airlock finished cycling a few minutes later and the outer door opened, they found themselves staring straight into Red’s waiting mouth.

 

Keith pretended not to notice the exasperated look the other shot him, striding ahead of him up the ramp. “Come on, Matt, schedule to keep.” He called over his shoulder.

 

He grinned at the sputtering noise behind him before uneven footsteps followed him up. He gave Matt time to settle himself comfortably in the jumpseat that folded down from the back wall of the cockpit and strap in before launching, starting a slow journey low over the moon’s surface, Earth rising slowly higher into the sky as they flew. Might as well enjoy the view while they could.

 

Matt must have had the same thought, because he spoke up a moment later. “Hey Keith? Can we just...stop here for a few? We’re technically ahead of schedule.”

 

“Sure thing.” Red purred her contentment with the idea and he eased back on the throttles, setting her down on the ridge of a crater’s edge. A million stars sparkled overhead, although they paled beside the gleam of a three-quarters-full Earth. Keith may have had fewer ties to Earth than anyone else except Allura and Coran, but he couldn’t help but agree with the others that there was something special about this particular sky.

 

Except that it had been Lance who first pointed that out, during the heady rush after their initial landing as they stared out at a so-familiar blue sky. He’d said he couldn’t wait to see the stars that night and someone--Keith couldn’t remember who now--had pointed out that hadn’t he had his fill of stars by now?

 

“ _ Yeah, but these are  _ Earth’s _ stars.” _ Lance had shot back with a grin.  _ “That makes them special.” _

 

His hands tightened on the controls until his knuckles went white. He was not going to think about Lance. He wasn’t. He’d made his mistake, he’d learned from it, time to move on.

 

Matt’s voice, suddenly coming from right beside him, nearly made him jump out of his skin. “Hey. What’s bugging you?”

 

“Nothing!” He snapped, whipping around in his seat to glare at the other where he was leaning heavily on the back of the pilot chair, brows knitted in a frown. “I’m fine!”

 

“Bullshit.” Was Matt’s immediate response. He limped around the side of the chair and perched on one of the control panels, rubbing his knee once he was sitting and looking at Keith steadily with a penetrating gaze that instantly put him on edge. “You’ve been acting weird for days.”

 

Keith tensed and looked away. “I have not.” He insisted, even though he knew they both knew it was a lie. He didn’t want to talk about this. Nothing good would come of letting himself be vulnerable. It never had.

 

The older sighed, shaking his head. When he spoke again, his voice was soft. “Keith, listen. I won’t force you to talk if you really don’t want to. But have I  _ ever _ done anything to make you feel like you can’t trust me with what’s going on in your head? Has  _ Takashi _ ? I know you’ve been avoiding talking to him, too, and that’s not like you. We’re worried about you.”

 

Rubbing a thumb back and forth over his knuckles to ground himself, Keith debated with himself. Matt’s question was a valid one. While Shiro was the one who had officially mentored him, who had devoted endless hours to trying to earn his trust, Matt had also been there for him during his years at the Garrison, a steady presence that he could count on. He had also made it clear, even back then, that he was on Keith’s side, and had backed him up in front of teachers and students alike. He’d never pushed his presence on Keith, but he’d silently shown that he cared all the same. Neither of them had ever let him down, even once, or looked down on him in any way. Even now, Matt still treated him with respect and affection, had seemed genuinely happy to see him again after all this time.

 

He bit his lip. Maybe he could still afford to talk to Shiro and Matt, at least a little. If he was careful.

 

“I did something stupid.” His voice was quiet, and he avoided Matt’s gaze. “Let people in and got burned. That’s all.”

 

“ _ Ah _ .” Matt’s voice was heavy with understanding. “That explains a lot. No wonder you shut us out.” He sighed, shifting a bit. “Do you mind telling me whose asses I need to kick?”

 

The offer got a weak chuckle out of Keith, grateful for the subtle reassurance of support. It helped a little, even though it hurt just thinking about what had happened. But he couldn’t find it in himself to wish retribution on Lance for a perfectly reasonable rejection. Letting out a slow breath, he shook his head. “It’s fine, Matt. Lance didn’t do anything wrong.”

 

“Lance?” Ginger eyebrows furrowed in obvious confusion. “ _ Lance _ did something to hurt you?” Matt sounded as baffled as it was possible to be, biting a finger thoughtfully as he mulled that over. “Now why would he...even unintentionally, that doesn’t seem like him to not fix it…Keith, what exactly happened, if you don’t mind me asking?”

 

He did mind. He didn’t want to talk about that, about being abruptly reminded full-force of things he tried not to think about.

 

But the sting of it was like a weight in his chest, and Shiro had told him once--more than once-- _ Even if we can’t fix it, at least tell us what’s hurting you. Let us share the burden and be there for you. _ And no matter how messed up Keith was, no matter what demons he allowed Shiro or Matt to glimpse, they’d always done exactly that. Even the worst revelation--being half-Galra, the discovery that he’d been dead certain would drive Shiro away once and for all after everything the older had been through--hadn’t created any rifts between them except the one that Keith himself had put there out of fear of impending rejection.

 

He swallowed hard, gathering his courage. He’d fought one-on-one against  _ Zarkon _ , for crying out loud. Talking about his feelings shouldn’t be this terrifying by comparison.

 

“I...I told him how I felt about him. And he rejected me.”

 

A long, heavy pause followed that declaration, and when Keith glanced up out of the corner of his eye, trying to gauge Matt’s reaction, he found the other outright gaping at him. He wasn’t sure what that meant.

 

Finally Matt let out a slow breath, steepling his fingers over his nose and closing his eyes. “Yeah. Okay. That would do it. I’m sorry that happened to you, Keith.” He said softly. “I dunno why the hell he would do that to you, anyone with half an eye could see how he feels...whatever it was, though, I really don’t think it was anything wrong with you, okay? You may have been through some shit, but you’re a great kid.”

 

Keith swallowed again and looked away, wishing it was easier to believe Matt’s assurances. There was plenty wrong with him, and everyone knew it. Especially Lance. He was just too nice to say so outright. “It’s fine. I’m used to rejection, remember?”

 

“You shouldn’t have to be.” Matt scowled, shaking his head. “That kid...did he at least say  _ why _ ?”

 

Biting his lip, he leaned on Red’s warm presence in the back of his mind for comfort. “Said he was no good for me.” He explained quietly, and fidgeted with his gloves. “Which makes  _ no _ sense, I mean, it’s  _ Lance _ , if either of us is no good it’s obviously--” he faltered, because Matt had bolted upright and was dragging his hands down his face with an exasperated groan.

 

“Oh, for the love of  _ vrekt _ , this is about the whole Haggar thing, isn’t it. That  _ idiot. _ ”

 

Now it was Keith’s turn to be confused. “What does Haggar have to do with any of this?” He asked uncertainly.

 

Matt groaned and threw up his hands. “Of course you didn’t notice. I should’ve realized. Look, you remember what Lance and Alejandro found out? That Haggar was the first blue paladin?”

 

Keith nodded slowly, still not seeing the connection. So another of their enemies was also a former paladin. As long as that didn’t grant her any secret powers they had to be wary of, it’s not like the fact mattered.

 

His non-comprehension must have shown in his face, judging by Matt’s exasperated sigh. “Let me spell it out for you. Basically, Lance is an idiot, who I’m pretty sure thinks that just because he has a few things in common with Haggar, that somehow makes him a bad person too. Maybe he’s afraid of his aspect still, maybe it’s guilt by association, I dunno. I can’t read his mind.” He shrugged helplessly. “Point is, he’s been beating himself up because of it, even though as far as I know, literally  _ no one _ else thinks badly of him for it.”

 

Keith gaped, pain momentarily forgotten as he tried to follow the leap of logic Matt had described. “That’s...that’s so  _ stupid _ , though!” He spluttered. “That’s like saying Shiro’s a bad person because he and Zarkon were both Black Paladins!”

 

Matt offered him another shrug. “Anxiety isn’t always rational. But, unfortunately, I think  _ that’s _ why he rejected you. Because he genuinely thinks badly of himself over this. Not because of anything you did.”

 

“I…” he faltered, completely overwhelmed by this revelation. Lance had thought that he was a bad person because of Haggar. He’d found that out the first evening back, while talking to Coran with Alejandro.

 

_ Before _ Keith had gone to admit his feelings to him.

 

_ I’m no good for you, _ Lance had said. And when Keith had asked why, Lance had insisted he would explain tomorrow, in front of everyone. Except he hadn’t, and Keith had known that the original promise was just a brush-off like so many before. Lance may have tried to spare his feelings, because that was just how Lance was, but when it came right down to it it was Keith that was the problem. Just like always.

 

Except apparently Lance  _ had _ explained, and Keith had failed to put the pieces together, because he never could understand how other people thought. And maybe, just maybe (he was so afraid to even let himself consider the possibility of hope) Lance had been telling the truth about it being himself that was the problem--at least in his own eyes.

 

Matt was still staring at him expectantly, and Keith grimaced before trying again.  “It was just after he talked to Coran with Alejandro.” Keith told him, feeling an embarrassed blush rising to the surface. “When I talked to him, I mean.” Now that he understood where Lance was coming from with what he’d said, even if it still didn’t make much sense, he felt like an idiot for not putting it all together. Hell, he should have realized something was off right from the moment Lance said he hadn’t been asleep!

 

“Naturally.” The ginger gave a despairing shake of his head. “Meaning it the Haggar thing was fresh on his mind. That idiot.” He delivered the insult in an oddly gentle tone that he normally reserved for disparaging remarks about his sister, the one that Keith had learned meant he wasn’t actually upset, more likely fondly annoyed or outright missing her. “I’ll have a talk with him, assuming someone else hasn’t beat me to it. And you can think about what you want to do after that, okay? Because trust me, he  _ does _ like you back. A lot.”

 

“He does?” Keith blurted the words before he could stop himself, then quickly slapped a hand over his mouth, feeling his cheeks burn in mortification.  _ Don’t get your hopes up, idiot! _

 

Matt just laughed and nodded, unaware of his internal beratement. “Definitely. I know I’ve only been back with you guys a few weeks, but shit, that kid is  _ not _ subtle. Neither are you, really, although maybe that’s just because I know you better.”

 

Leaning forward, Matt put a hand on Keith’s shoulder. “Listen. You want my advice? Take a little time, figure out how you feel about this now that you know both sides of the story. Give Lance a little time to sort out his own feelings and let everyone reassure him that he doesn’t have to carry the weight of Haggar’s sins. He knows how you feel about him now. When you guys are both ready, then you can talk things out, okay?”

 

“...Okay.” Keith managed a small nod of agreement to that. His head was spinning from everything he’d just learned, his heart tying itself in knots of conflicting hopes and fears. He wanted to believe that Matt was right about everything he’d said, that the rejection was only due to Lance’s ridiculous self-doubt and that the blue paladin really did return his feelings. But the deeper part of him still gnawed at him with doubt and wariness, whispers of  _ it’s always you _ and  _ no one ever wants you _ making him hold those hopes at arm’s length. But he didn’t give voice to them. He had enough to think about, had bared his soul enough for one afternoon.

 

Sensing an end to the conversation, Matt pulled himself back to his feet, clapping Keith once more on the shoulder, and limped to the jump seat again. “Alright. We should get going before the others start wondering where we are.”

 

_______

 

“ _ This _ is your masterpiece of terror?” Lotor’s voice was frankly dubious as he peered at the rack of vials on the table, the liquid inside glowing with a dim blue light.

 

Haggar scowled, suppressing her irritation. “Don’t judge so hastily based on appearances, Prince Lotor. The Baku serum may not look like much, but I expect you’ll be more than satisfied. Allow me a demonstration.”

 

Straightening, Lotor raised an eyebrow but gestured silently for her to proceed. At a snap of her fingers, two guards strode into the room, dragging a terrified prisoner between them. The prisoner, a gaunt, battered Unilu, went ashen at the sight of her, thrashing with desperate strength to break free from her captors.

 

“Hold her still.” Haggar ordered, filling a syringe with a small amount of serum. It was more than was strictly necessary to be effective, but it wasn’t as if the excess would do any harm. Grinning, one of the guards grabbed the Unilu by the hair, yanking her head roughly to the side and eliciting a cry of pain. The prisoner could only shudder in their hold, wide eyes staring at Haggar in terror as she slipped the needle into the main vein of the Unilu’s neck and injected the serum.

 

For several ticks nothing seemed to happen, the prisoner still quivering and wide-eyed with terror. Then, abruptly, the light seemed to go out of her eyes, the tension seeping away until she hung limp and pliant in the guards’ hands. At another gesture from Haggar they released her, leaving her kneeling on the floor. She made no move to get away, all traces of her terror, or any other emotion, vanished.

 

Haggar could still feel Lotor’s doubting gaze on her back, and ignored it. “Get to work.” She ordered the prisoner.

 

Without a word, the Unilu rose to her feet. Turning slightly, she zeroed in on a bucket and rag in the corner and crossed to it, dropping to her knees and beginning to scrub the floor methodically, almost robotically.

 

Lotor crossed the room and circled her, studying her thoughtfully as she continued to clean, seemingly oblivious to his attention. Finally he turned back to Haggar, lips quirking in a slight smile. “And what exactly does this accomplish?”

 

Haggar smirked back. As if he hadn’t already guessed. He may be an arrogant brat, but he was far from stupid. “A universe filled with slaves who will serve the glory of the Empire without need for prisons or guards. Slaves who will never revolt or rebel. A way to conquer entire worlds without ever needing to set foot on them.” Her smile widened, cold and satisfied. “Our enemies may flee in terror before it, but they will never be able to outrun it forever.”

 

“I take it you have a delivery system in mind, then.” All traces of his earlier doubt were gone, replaced by eager cruelty. She could practically see him itching to put it to work.

 

“Of course.” She turned to another table, occupied by a gray metal hemisphere almost three feet across. “A modified mass vaccinator. This is the first prototype, which you may take to use for a field test. The second is already under construction. They take considerable time to modify, but I will notify you when more are ready.”

 

Giving a soft hum of satisfaction, Lotor ran long fingers over the smooth surface of the device. “Excellent. See that you do. I will notify you of how your creation performs once I’ve seen it in action.” He laughed softly. “If it does half of what you claim it will...then I expect even my father’s accomplishments will pale before my own within the cycle.” He snapped his fingers and one of the guards hefted the machine and followed him to the door. “Keep up the good work, Haggar.”

 

As soon as he was out of earshot, she ground her teeth until her jaw ached. “Arrogant whelp! As if I intend to allow  _ you _ to usurp his rightful place!” She snarled. Just a few more decarotations, then the brat would be put back in his place and Zarkon would reap the rewards of the terror she had used Lotor to sow. Just a few more decarotations of putting up with his high-handed insolence and disrespect. She vented her frustration on the lab, sweeping a tray of empty vials to the floor to shatter, before storming off to check on the progress of the healing program.

 

Behind her, the Unilu slave moved silently across the room to begin cleaning up the broken glassware, her gaze vacant and face empty, even when a shard sliced open her finger and let blood drip down onto the floor.


	48. Chapter 48

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: Mild panic attack in the Hunk POV section. Discussions of death, grief, and mourning (but no tears) throughout the Colleen POV section.
> 
> I have a lot of thoughts about Altean quintessence sense and their markings and if anyone wants more of the explanations hinted at in here please let me know and I'll post something on vldaspect! Also available on vldaspect: writing memes, because I finally learned how to reblog to a sideblog (thanks Bird XD). Please enjoy the pain and suffering of the Turn Left meme.
> 
> Also, a huge thanks to the Duality Discord for inspiring the Alejandro POV section (and there's another moment along the same lines next chapter <3)!
> 
> I may or may not have the next chapter out before Anime North. I hope I do, because it's a chapter I am super hyped for. In the meantime, enjoy!

Hunk groaned, sagging wearily in his chair and poking at his plate of goo. After a sleepless night and early flight back in Yellow, who had purred worriedly in his mind the entire trip in response to his sadness at leaving, followed by several hours of tricky hardware installations on the moon, he’d been so exhausted making actual food had been out of the question. He would be lucky if he could finish his goo without falling asleep at the table as. Fortunately, everyone else also seemed too tired to care, judging by the generally muted conversations around him, even from the usually exuberant Lance.

 

But at least Lance  _ was _ talking again. Three days with his family seemed to have perked him up again, at least a little, and he was smiling and answering with more than one-word sentences instead of curling in on himself like a kicked puppy. Hunk was still going to kick his ass, though, for beating himself up over something so stupid as well as for avoiding talking to anyone about it for days. That could wait until he had the energy for said ass-kicking, though. Right now it was just nice to hear his best friend’s voice again.

 

“...wait, so your mom is coming with us when we go?” Lance was saying around a mouthful of goo, blinking wide-eyed across the table at the three Holts. 

 

Colleen hummed and nodded, chuckling at his stunned expression. “As I told Katie and Matt, it’s not as if I have any good reason to stay on earth, and every reason to come along. I may not be a soldier, but I’m sure I can make myself useful regardless.” Her smile took on a sharp edge. “Not to mention I owe the Galra Empire a personal ass-kicking for what they’ve done to my family.”

 

Lance let out a bark of delighted laughter, the easy genuineness of it reassuring to Hunk’s ears. “Oh man. If you turn out to be half as dangerous as Pidge, then am I ever glad you’re on our side!”

 

“Indeed!” Coran chortled from the end of the table, raising his glass in a playful toast. “I have no doubt you’ll be an asset to the team, Colleen. In fact, it’s almost a pity, if things were different I suspect you would have made a most formidable Yellow Paladin!”

 

It took Hunk a moment to process that statement, but when he did he bolted upright, his cutlery clattering violently against his dish. “Wait,  _ what _ ?” he demanded, cutting off Colleen’s response mid-syllable. “What do you mean she could be a yellow paladin?!” His mom’s words came lurching back to the forefront of his minds, her insistence that they take the time to find someone, anyone, who could take his place. And there was another yellow paladin under their noses the whole time they’d been on earth?

 

His outburst had startled the rest of the group, judging by the number of stares he was getting, along with a narrow-eyed look from Lance that said he hadn’t missed Hunk’s suddenly white-knuckled grip on his spoon or the way he had to swallow hard against a wave of nausea brought on by his roiling emotions. Hunk ignored the looks, his own gaze flicking desperately from Coran to Colleen and back again.

 

Coran took a breath, setting down his spoon and returning his gaze with that calmly penetrating way he seemed to see right into your soul. “Under different circumstances, Hunk. Unfortunately, she’s not part of a viable set--one with living individuals of pure yellow, blue, red, green, and black quintessence whose energies are linked.” he added, directing the last part to Colleen, whose face immediately cleared of some of its confusion. “And without being part of a viable set, she cannot, sadly, be a paladin.”

 

“How do you know? How can you be sure?” he hated the desperate edge to his tone, hated the guilt welling up in his gut, but his nerves were already too fried from last night’s breakdown for him to reign in either. He felt a hand on his shoulder, probably Lance’s, but brushed it off and turned his focus fully toward Coran.

 

“Her quintessence only has two other connections.” The Altean said, his voice gentle, banishing the last of Hunk’s half-formed hopes with a handful of words. “Even without knowing their colours, that isn’t enough.”

 

Hunk sank back in his chair, fighting the burn in his eyes. Right. Of course she couldn't be in that case. Distantly he was aware that Pidge had asked something about how Coran knew and both he and Matt had launched into an excited explanation of how in some Altean animals bioluminescent markings had evolved to detect quintessence as an additional way of sensing predators and keeping track of their own group in low-visibility environments. It should have been fascinating, but right now his head felt like it was spinning in circles along with his stomach and he couldn’t quite breathe. He barely registered the hand gripping his arm and pulling him to his feet until suddenly his back was hitting the cool metal of a wall, the supporting hand guiding him down to sit on the floor before shifting to carding gently through his hair in a soothing rhythm. There was only one voice now, he realized, counting in a steady cadence that Hunk automatically tried to match his breathing to despite the resistance of his lungs.

 

When he was finally able to force his eyes to focus again, he found himself in the hallway outside the dining room. Lance was kneeling in front of him, looking anxious, and cupped Hunk’s cheek with a cool hand when he saw recognition in his eyes. “Hey.” His brows knitted with concern. “You good now? Need a bathroom or anything?”

 

Did he? Hunk swallowed, but while his stomach still churned, it wasn’t as bad as it had been and he shook his head. “No.” His voice cracked and he swallowed again. “No, I think I’m okay.”

 

“Good. That’s good, buddy.” Lance cracked a thin smile, not looking completely reassured. Leaning back a little, he rearranged his long legs so he was cross-legged in front of Hunk instead of kneeling, hands in his lap where he could toy with the fraying cuffs of his pants. “Wanna tell me what happened back there?” he asked softly. “You seemed super upset about Mrs. Holt not being able to be a paladin.”

 

Hunk nodded, grimacing. “Yeah. It’s stupid, it shouldn’t have bothered me so much, but…” he heaved a slow sigh. He could talk about this. Lance would understand, if anyone would. “...Mom really doesn’t want me leaving again. And she said we should just take the time to find new paladins so I wouldn’t have to.” He could feel a lump forming in his throat as the argument played back in his head once more and hastily rubbed at his eyes. “...We has a huge fight about it, and then when Coran said Pidge’s mom had yellow quintessence…”

 

“...it was a total kick in the teeth?” Lance’s expression was sympathetic and sorrowful, and he grabbed one of Hunk’s hands and set their arms swinging gently between them. “Aw, asere. That really sucks. Like, so much. No wonder you freaked. I would too.”

 

“Yeah…” Hunk let out a slow breath through his nose. “I just thought for a minute...especially after the way I freaked out at  _ her _ …If Mrs. Holt could actually...” The words failed him, unable to put his jumble of half-formed hopes and fears and the gut-wrenching misery of the previous evening into a coherent sentence.

 

The other teen seemed to understand him anyway, dropping Hunk’s hand and leaning forward to pull him into a tight hug. Hunk accepted the familiar embrace gratefully, burying his face in Lance’s shoulder and closing his eyes. Trust Lance to know what he needed, even when Hunk didn’t know himself.

 

“It’ll be okay.” Lance whispered in his ear, stroking his hair again with one hand. “I know it sucks, having to leave again. Having to go back to fighting. I don’t want to either. But we’ll get through it, okay? Just...tell me when it’s getting too much and we’ll figure something out.”

 

“...Okay.” Hunk nodded against Lance’s shoulder. The other’s soft words, the reassurance that he wasn’t the only one reluctant to return the front lines, eased the tightness in his lungs a bit. He breathed in, slow and deep, and out again.

 

“Atta boy.” Lance patted his back in approval. “You wanna finish your dinner? Or should we head to the lounge and start de-stressing?” He straightened up and tapped his cheek meaningfully, grinning hopefully.

 

Lance’s smile was infectious, and Hunk couldn’t help offering a shaky one in return. “De-stressing sounds good, actually. I could use a good manicure.”

 

“De-stressing it is, then!”

 

“Mind if we join you?”

 

Hunk jumped at the unexpected voice. Looking up, he saw both Shiro and Pidge peering around the doorframe beside them like something out of a cartoon. All that was missing was two or three more heads to complete the stack, although he had a feeling the others were just out of sight even so. “How long have you been watching us?”

 

Shiro had the grace to look sheepish. “The whole time. We were worried, and wanted to be close by in case there was anything we could do.” His cheeks went pink. “Not that Lance didn’t have it well in hand.”

 

Groaning, Hunk hid his face in his hands. Right. His whole team--everyone on the Castle, for that matter--saw him freak out at Coran. “I’m sorry for freaking out, Shiro. It was really dumb, I know--”

 

“No.” A firm but gentle hand on his shoulder stopped him before he could go further, and he lifted his head again to meet Shiro’s concerned gaze. “It wasn’t dumb. I know all of...this…” he waved a hand at the hallway around them, the corridor of an alien spacecraft. “...isn’t easy on you. On any of you. But the rest of us are here for you, okay? Both of you.” He directed a warning look at Lance, who flushed and ducked his head.

 

“Damn right.” Pidge grumbled, scowling at both of them. She leaned out to poke Lance sharply in the shoulder. “Just  _ let _ us be, okay?”

 

“Okay, okay, I get it!” Lance threw his hands up in despair. “I’m an idiot, I know. Mami already chewed me out for that.”

 

Shiro chuckled and ruffled Lance’s hair with the hand that wasn't resting on Hunk’s shoulder, ignoring the huff at the gesture. “Good. Now, how about that group de-stressing session?”

 

Hunk smiled softly as he watched Lance enlisting the two to help him retrieve his beauty supplies since they’d ‘so helpfully volunteered’. Lance wasn’t the only one who was dumb for not talking about what was on his mind. He felt better already.

 

______

 

“--which is why Alteans first invented clothes!”

 

Allura chuckled at the fascinated expressions on the faces of most of the Humans as Coran concluded his long-winded lecture on Altean quintessence-sense. Evolutionary biology had always been a hobby of his, and he was patently delighted to have a rapt audience for his recountings of the various things he’d learned over the years. In fact, she couldn’t remember seeing him this animated since before--

 

She pushed the thought away with a shake of her head. She didn’t want to think about that right now. Instead she forced herself to refocus on the conversation going on around her.

 

“So people having different colours of quintessence. Why is that, exactly?” Hunk was asking curiously. He seemed much calmer now, his hair pulled back from his face to keep it out of his mud mask and a mug of something called ‘koko samoa’ cradled in his hands. “Like, what determines it? Quintessence is elemental, isn’t it?”

 

Coran nodded. “In its raw form, yes. That’s why the Lions had to be finished in places rich in those elements. I was actually explaining some of this to number seven the other day. Green’s quintessence came from a jungle world in the Telma sector, Yellow’s from a rocky one. Blue’s was from a water world, Red’s from the outer atmosphere of a star, and Black’s core was drawn from the interstellar void. However,” he held up a hand in a warning gesture, “Humans and most animals naturally produce quintessence in all combinations of colours, and to be honest, I don’t believe the reason for that was ever discovered. Oh, there were plenty of theories, and ongoing research, but the how and why of the quintessence of living beings was still one of the big questions of Altean science.”

 

“Huh. I guess there’s always more to be discovered.” Lance commented as he picked through his selection of nail polishes for one that would suit Colleen. He also seemed much more cheerful than he had been in the wake of the revelation about Haggar’s identity, and Allura was relieved to see the easy smile back on his face.

 

Matt nodded in agreement, leaning over to steal some of Pidge’s cookies and earning a sharp elbow in his side for it as he leaned back against Shiro. “One thing I’m curious about, I’m guessing it’s not hereditary? I mean, mom has pure yellow, Katie has pure green, and I asked Avenol once and mine is a mix of red, black, and green?”

 

“Quite right.” Coran confirmed cheerfully. “In fact, it’s quite rare for parent and child to have the same colours, and even if they do, the balance of them will almost certainly be different. Take Allura as an example.” He gestured to her and Allura found her cheek markings glowing awkwardly as every set of eyes turned to her. “While she and her mother both have all five colours--even rarer than single-colour quintessence, that--Allura’s is heaviest in red and black and lightest in yellow and green, while her mother, Linnata, had more green and blue and the least red.”

 

“So I guess their personalities would have been pretty different?” Alejandro commented from the couch behind her where he was stretched across Kurogane’s lap having his legs massaged. “Linnata was less temperamental and impatient?” Allura whipped her head around to glare at him and was met by a teasing, affectionate grin.

 

Coran burst out laughing, ignoring her as she turned to scowl at him instead. “Very much so. Linnata was a brilliant woman, stubborn as an arlmelkin when she put her mind to something, mind you, but very clever and one of the most loving people you would ever meet. Patient, too, considering all the antics Alfor and I were always getting up to.”

 

“It sounds like you knew her pretty well.” Shiro raised an eyebrow in curiosity.

 

“Indeed I did.” The older Altean nodded, a fond smile on his face as he took a long sip of his cup of nunvill. “She was my wife, after all.”

 

Allura had to duck as Alejandro nearly fell off the couch in shock. “Wait,  _ what _ ? Since when?” He demanded over the various confused or startled exclamations around the room. He directed an accusing stare at her that made her giggle in spite of herself. “Allura, you never told us Coran was your dad too!” He complained, pretending offense.

 

Beside her, Pidge tipped her head back to look at Alejandro upside down. “Wait,  _ you _ didn’t even know?”

 

Alejandro frowned and shook his head, giving Allura another long, more uncertain look. “No. Altea never told us that.” He said softly. “I knew they were important to each other, but even after we lost Coran she never…”

 

She avoided his gaze, instead looking back across the room to where Coran was explaining to a confused Keith and an obviously delighted Shiro and Ryou about how multiple marriages were the norm in Altean culture, rather than the exception. The conversation they’d had in the holoprojection chamber the day the emptiness of the Castle had gotten to her came back to her mind.

 

“...I’ve never been very good at letting myself open up to people.” She said in a low voice, hugging her knees to her chest. “At letting people see Allura, rather than  _ Princess _ Allura.”

 

A hand came to rest on her shoulder, and when she looked up she found Kurogane leaning over his partner’s legs to regard her seriously. “No one here is going to judge you, Allura, no matter what you might think they’ll find wrong with you. Trust me, I  _ know. _ ” 

 

His steady gaze was calm and sincere, and she found herself nodding in response. As closed-off and private as Keith was, even more than herself in some ways, for Kurogane to tell her she had nothing to fear could be nothing less than the truth.

 

Satisfied, Kurogane straightened up again and resumed massaging the stumps of his partner’s legs. Allura smiled softly and, after a moment’s thought, reached up to unclip her earrings and pull off her tiara, setting them on a cushion beside her. Sleeping without them was more comfortable anyway.

 

______

 

Alejandro jumped as a bag was dropped in his lap. Looking up, he saw Lance distributing other assorted packages around the room.

 

“So it turns out,” the teen declared to the room at large as he passed another bright, crinkly package to Shiro, “that Colleen Holt is an absolute  _ goddess _ who has spent the last three days stocking the Castle with Earth food.  _ There’s an entire store room full of snacks, guys. _ ”

 

A chorus of laughter and cheers went up as Lance continued to distribute the treats, and Alejandro grinned as he continued. “And knowing you, Pidge, I’m sure you’ve been dealing with the entertainment shortage?”

 

“ _ Please. _ Like you even have to ask.” The green paladin smirked and tapped a couple of keys, and a jazzy saxophone solo began to play over the overhead speakers.

 

Matt wheezed and nearly toppled into Shiro’s lap. “Oh my god. Is that  _ Careless Whisper?!” _

 

“Of course it is! You didn’t think I’d forget to stock up on memes, did you? Any requests?”

 

Several people immediately started shouting songs, but Alejandro found his head being dropped unceremoniously to the cushions as Kurogane got up and darted over to whisper in Pidge’s ear. Propping himself up on one elbow, Alejandro watched his partner in confusion as whatever he was saying made Pidge cackle. What was that all about?

 

A moment later he got his answer as the saxophone was replaced by slow violins. Then a woman’s voice started to speak, in a thick spanish accent:  _ “I know that we are young, and I know that you may love me, but I just can’t be with you like this anymore!” _

 

Kurogane was directing a shit-eating grin his way and Alejandro realized exactly what he was hearing just half a second before the next like played and everyone burst out laughing.

 

_ “Alejandro!” _

 

______

 

The floor of the observation lounge was strewn with empty packaging of a wide variety of Earth snack foods and misplaced containers of various beauty products, and Lance was pretty sure that half his nail polishes were lost among the blankets, but as he snuggled deeper into the plush cushions of the couch and breathed a contented sigh he couldn’t bring himself to mind.

 

From where he lay he could see the sleeping forms of his friends--no, his  _ family _ . Being away from them for three days had really driven home just how important they all were to him. As much as he’d missed his mami and papi and siblings while he was out in space, he’d missed the rest of his team just as much while he was in Cuba. Counting the blanket-covered lumps on the floor and couches was immensely reassuring and he felt better than he had in several days.

 

As his gaze slid across the sprawled figure of Allura (he’d never seen her so relaxed. And taking her crown off around them? He never thought he’d see the day!) and the pile that was Matt on top of Shiro (sickeningly cute as usual) and the dozing (but not sleeping, because she was a Blade and creeping in the dark was totally their  _ thing _ ) shape of Kovirak by the far wall, he paused at the small, tightly-wrapped ball of blanket with a fluff of black hair poking out of one end.

 

Keith.

 

Lance still hadn’t talked to him about that late-night conversation. He couldn’t find the courage, let alone the words. They’d barely spoken at all today, in fact. But then, Keith had seemed lost in thought anyway and Lance hadn’t wanted to intrude on his train of thought. But he’d felt those dark eyes on him from time to time throughout the evening, even if Keith looked away whenever Lance glanced up.

 

Was he angry? Had Lance permanently fucked up any chance of being with him because of his--admittedly idiotic--rejection?

 

God, he really hoped not. Keith was openly ride-or-die for the people he cared about, it was one of the things Lance loved most about him, that unswerving loyalty, but he was terrified to think what might happen if he’d broken the trust that had given the wary teen the courage to confess to him in the first place. At  _ best _ they might slip back to how they’d been at the beginning, with Keith weighing everything Lance said for truth and cautious of every action. And at worst…

 

Lance grimaced and hid his face in the pillow. He wasn’t even sure what the worst case would be. The best case was bad enough. Better just to hope he hadn’t royally screwed everything forever.

 

He’d start by apologizing, and explaining exactly what was going through his head that night. Keith deserved that much from him at least. The trick would be finding the time, though. They had a hectic couple of days ahead of them, setting up the lunar defenses and finishing getting ready to leave again, and that really wasn’t the kind of conversation you wanted to have while multitasking or when you were tired from a long day. He’d find it somehow, though. He didn’t want to put it off for too long.

 

He yawned, his eyes drooping in spite of themselves. His last thought as he drifted off was that if Keith forgave him for his stupidity, he would definitely not make the same mistake again.

 

_____

 

As Coran ran the Castle of Lions through a series of nightly system checks, Colleen hovered by the wide forward screen that displayed the ship’s surroundings. She’d come along to keep the Altean company, but found herself drawn to the image of the dark desert below and the brightly-lit shapes of the garrison buildings further off. From up here, the hulking buildings looked downright tiny.

 

It was strange how a place with such a weight of associations attached to it could look so insignificant.

 

She turned slightly as Coran approached, accepting the mug of tea she’d briefly abandoned on the console to cool and sipping it slowly while he drank from his glass of nunvill that he’d grabbed as they passed through the kitchen on the way up here. For several moments neither spoke, content to keep each other silent company.

 

It was Coran who spoke first. “Lovely planet you have here.” He commented. “I would have liked to see more of it if we had the time.”

 

“It is. Parts of it, anyway.” God knew she’d seen plenty of the bad parts too, in her line of work. But then, that was people making it that way. The planet itself wasn’t to blame. “If you’d like to come back here after the war, I’m sure the kids would be delighted to show you around.”

 

“I’ll look forward to it.” He chuckled, taking another drink and heaving a soft sigh.

 

They lapsed into silence again. Even with everything she’d already been shown or told, Colleen still had a thousand questions, so many she didn’t know which ones to ask first. Despite their differences, the quest for knowledge was as much a part of her as it was for Katie and Matt--or had been for Sam, whose love of learning had taken him to Kerberos and his death. Her eyes burned at the thought and her fingers tightened around her mug as she fought not to give in to tears.

 

“Does it ever get any easier?” The question burst out of her before she even realized she’d spoken. Laced with bitterness, and with sorrow. It wasn’t one of the questions she’d intended to ask, but now it was the only one left in her head.

 

Coran blinked and gave her a long, penetrating look. Then he sighed and turned back to the window. “I don’t honestly know. I wish I did.” His voice betrayed an ache as deep as her own, and even in the low lighting she could see the shadows in his eyes. 

 

“I’m sorry.” Colleen said quietly, looking away. “Losing Sam...it hurts more than I ever could have imagined. But you’ve lost both Alfor and Linnata, and on top of everything else that’s happened, too.” To be able to hold himself together and support the Princess and the paladins so well...but then, Allura was his daughter, and Colleen would walk through the fires of Hell for her children. That stubborn determination she could fully understand.

 

“I’ve had time to come to terms with Linnata’s death.” He answered wearily. “It was several years ago, subjectively speaking, and her health was poor after she completed the crafting of the Lions. Giving birth to Allura only made it worse. But Alfor…” He drew in a shaky breath. “When I went into the cryoreplenisher, I wasn’t expecting to find that ten thousand cycles had passed when I awoke.”

 

“You thought you would see him again?”

 

Coran nodded, taking a long drink from his glass again. “Unfortunately, things didn’t turn out that way. The only consolation, small though it may be, is knowing he and Linnata are together again among the stars.”

 

That gave her pause, and she glanced at him sharply. “Alteans believe in an afterlife?” As absurd as it was, she couldn’t help wondering if maybe a race far more advanced than her own had poked scientific fingers into that particular spiritual area.

 

“No.” A quick shake of his head dashed that thought before it could properly form. “Not in the sense that I’m given to understand many Humans do, anyway. Quintessence is formed in the heart of stars, just as nearly everything else does, and when we die, our quintessence, our life force, returns to those stars to become part of something new. In that sense, we will be reunited with those we love when we ourselves pass on.”

 

Colleen fell silent, considering that. She gazed outward, lifting her head to look at the panorama of stars dusting the night sky. To think that Sam, her beloved, brilliant Sam, was out there, that his essence had become part of the very stars he loved so much, was fitting, and the ache in her chest eased just a little.

 

“I think they’d be very proud of you and Allura and everything you’ve accomplished since you woke up.” She said at last. She moved closer, putting a hand on his shoulder in a wordless gesture of support. “I know you probably don’t believe in such things, but I’d like to think they’re all up there watching over us from inside the hearts of the stars.”

 

Coran’s gaze lifted as well as his hand came up to rest on top of hers, the contact a quiet solidarity between two people who had loved deeply and lost too soon. “Yes,” he murmured, “I like to think so too.”


	49. Chapter 49

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No warnings for this chapter.
> 
> This is it, guys. You have no idea how excited I am to finally be posting this chapter. The final scene is one that's been in my head almost since the beginning of the story. Buckle up, kiddos.

_ “And that’s it. Mars base’s defense system is up and running.” _ Matt’s voice, despite the note of tiredness, showed how pleased he was at another successful installation.

 

_ “Well done, both of you.” _ Shiro called back.  _ “That’s the last one. Everyone pack it up and head for home.” _

 

Matt’s chuckle crackled over the coms.  _ “We might be a little bit, I think they want to thank Keith again.” _

 

Pidge wasn’t the only one to burst out laughing at that. Iverson had passed on a message from the research installation on Mars specifically requesting an opportunity to personally thank the Red Paladin for protecting them during the battle, and Shiro and Allura had seen no problem with assigning that particular shield installation to Matt and Keith so they could do just that. But on arrival Keith had found himself utterly besieged by people wanting to hug him and shake his hand, and had been so overwhelmed he’d almost run off to hide in Red. The comms had been open the whole time, and they’d all heard the chatter along with Keith’s awkward protests and Matt’s muffled snickering.

 

She felt Green’s amusement in her head and patted the console in agreement. “Alright, girl, time to head back.” Nudging the throttles, they launched easily from the landing pad outside the substation where they’d completed their own final installation of the day.

 

Behind her, Allura rested her arms on the back of the chair. “Alejandro, Kurogane, any updates from the Icebringers on the repair situation?”

 

Just that morning there’d been an unexpected hiccup in the repairs to the Lightning Strike. Something about some structural damage that had been hidden until they cut away other damaged parts in preparation to replace them. When they’d left for the day’s scheduled installations, the engineers were still surveying the extent of the damage, but the ship’s pack leader had been concerned about how much extra time would be needed for the additional repairs. The heavy sigh Alejandro heaved in response to Allura’s question told Pidge that there was no good news to be had on that front.

 

_ “Nohwraalesh says it’s gonna take an extra half-rotation to complete the repairs on the Lightning Strike and they can’t take off until they do. They’re amazed the ship even made it down in one piece with two of the main support ribs cracked from one end to the other. Sorry, Allura. Guess departure’s getting pushed back a bit. _ ”

 

Pidge tilted her head back to gauge Allura’s reaction. She knew the Princess was eager to get back to the fight, if only to stop the Empire and its leaders before they could do anymore damage. Even the others agreed they needed to move as quickly as possible, before the Weblum’s Breath could be repaired and brought back to use against another vulnerable world.

 

Allura only sighed, though. “I was afraid of that. If it can’t be helped, it can’t be helped. It seems we have a few extra hours tomorrow morning for all of you to spend here.”

 

Chatter broke out over the comms. It wasn’t enough time for Hunk or Lance to go see their families again before they left, so ideas were being tossed back and forth about what to do with the spare time.

 

Then Lance’s voice broke in with a suggestion.  _ “I dunno about you guys, but I think it might be fun to go visit Blue’s cave, for old time’s sake. We never really got the chance to explore it the last time. And hey, maybe Allura or Coran can tell us what all those carvings on the walls mean!” _

 

_ “I’d be absolutely delighted, my boy!” _ Judging by the volume of Coran’s voice, the older Altean was leaning way too close to Lance’s helmet in order to be heard, and Pidge winced.  _ “It would be quite a treat to see the place where one of the Lions was hidden all this time!” _

 

_ “If you’re talking about the cave I think you’re talking about, then count me in. Those carvings have been driving me insane trying to figure out what they meant.” _ Ryou put in from Black’s cockpit.

 

“You saw the cave, Ryou?” Pidge asked curiously. 

 

_ “Sure did. The pictures and maps in the shack where Keith and Shiro used to hang out led us right to it. Although they didn’t mention the carvings in the lower chamber. I’m guessing he didn’t find it until you guys found the Blue Lion.” _

 

Hunk snorted, the Yellow Lion coming into view in the distance as Green curved away from the Lunar surface and started arching toward the blue planet below.  _ “Um, no. We got to the cave, Lance touched the wall, the carvings lit up and the floor collapsed under us. And then we were in Blue’s chamber and the rest is history.” _

 

_ “Alright, alright. Anyone who doesn’t want to come along to see the cave tomorrow morning?” _ Shiro cut in. There was a chorus of disagreement, everyone apparently up for the excursion.  _ “Then it’s settled. We’ll organize the supplies tonight and leave first thing in the morning.” _

 

______

 

Shiro slowly surveyed the mixed crowd of aliens waiting in front of the Castle.

 

Then he turned and raised an eyebrow at Matt.

 

Matt’s cheeks went bright red. “...I swear I only told Avenol where we were going. He asked if he could come along and I said I didn’t see why not.” He mumbled.

 

Shiro turned and directed a questioning look at Avenol instead.

 

“We all grew up with stories of Altea, and of Voltron.” The Altean shrugged unrepentantly. “I knew plenty of people would jump at the chance to see where one of the lost Lions was hidden for so long.”

 

Heaving a sigh, Shiro pinched the bridge of his nose. “Please tell me you have supplies and cave diving equipment for all these people on those speeders back there.”

 

Avenol looked offended at the mere insinuation that they hadn’t come adequately prepared. “Of course we do! We even have several first aid kits!”

 

Well, it wasn’t like there was any reason for them  _ not _ to come. At worst they might have to take turns in the lower cavern, but Shiro remembered it being quite big, with plenty of space around Blue. He threw up his hands. “Fine! Load up, we need to get moving. I’d like to be in the shadows of the canyon before it gets too hot.”

 

“Sir yes sir!” Avenol grinned and snapped off a perfect Earth-style salute--Shiro shot a sheepish Matt another look because  _ really? _ \--and jogged off toward the speeders, shouting instructions as he went.

 

Shiro heaved another sigh. This was going to be a  _ long _ morning.

 

_____

 

Altean speeders were  _ not _ designed for large groups of people.

 

They’d taken two of them, but with five paladins, two time-travellers, two Alteans, one Galra, Matt, Colleen, and Ryou, there were still six or seven people in each one. Allura and Coran were the most familiar with the controls, so they were the ones driving. And Colleen and Ryou were the ones with the coordinates, so they got the front passengers seats to navigate. Matt needed a proper seat because of his leg, which was fair, so he and Shiro were in the rear seats of one of the speeders, and Alejandro and Kurogane didn’t mind having to sit practically in each other’s laps, so they’d ended up sitting in the little storage cabinet behind the seats. Hunk couldn’t squeeze past the seats to the storage area so he got one of the seats in the other speeder, and neither could Kovirak so she got the other, and Pidge was the smallest so she ended up just sitting in Shiro’s lap.

 

Which all meant that somehow Lance had ended up crammed into a cupboard with Keith, even though this whole trip had been his idea in the first place.

 

The tension in the small space was stifling. Or maybe that was just the lack of oxygen.

 

They still hadn’t properly talked since that night in Lance’s room. There just hadn’t been an opportunity. But Lance had noticed that Keith had been quieter, more distant, and he stuck to Shiro like glue whenever possible, and he knew he needed to set the record straight as soon as possible. Might as well take advantage of the opportunity, even if this was going to be an awkward conversation to have when they were jammed hip to hip like this.

 

“Keith--” He started.

 

The speeder swerved sharply to the left, braking as it did so, and Lance found himself flung violent forward and sideways, just barely managing to get his arms up in time to prevent himself from cracking his skull on the wall of the storage space. His hands collided painfully with the hard metal and he yelped as he landed sprawled across Keith’s legs.

 

“Shit, Lance, are you okay?” Keith’s hands were surprisingly gentle as he helped him back up onto his knees. Lance groaned as he slumped back against the wall, cradling his right hand to his chest. “Your hand. Did you hurt it again?”

 

Thanks to the magic of alien medicine and Matt’s extensive knowledge of which ones were safe for Humans, the wound in the back of Lance’s hand from the desperate fight aboard the Weblum’s Breath had been healing faster and cleaner than it would have otherwise. But it wasn’t fully healed yet, and the area was still sensitive. He grimaced and examined it carefully. Some of his fingers were stiff, but that wasn’t new and Matt had assured him that should lessen with exercise. “...Just bruised, I think.” He said after a moment’s consideration.

 

“That’s a relief.” Keith breathed, settling back against the wall again. “Last thing you need is to wreck it again.”

 

Lance grimaced and nodded, flexing his fingers carefully a few times. They lapsed into awkward silence again, the only sound the hum of the speeder’s engines and the muffled chatter of the others up front.

 

He took a deep breath. Okay. Let’s try this again. “Keith,” he said carefully, looking down at his hands in his lap. “I’m really sorry.”

 

He couldn’t see Keith’s face from this angle, but sitting this close he could easily feel him stiffen. When he spoke his tone was guarded, wary, and Lance internally winced. “For what?”

 

“For being a huge idiot and a massive jerk.” He answered honestly. Talking to his Mami had put things back in proper perspective, and he knew he’d blown things out of proportion. Hopefully being honest about that would earn back some of the trust he knew he’d lost.

 

Keith didn’t respond to that, but he didn’t move either, didn’t pull away and close off.

 

Taking that as an invitation to continue, Lance kept going. “I overreacted to the whole Haggar thing. It was dumb of me to even think that any of you would think badly of me for that, and it was really awful of me to even assume that you would.”

 

“Just a little.” Keith muttered.

 

“I know.” He grimaced again, picking at his sleeves. “And it was an especially dumb reason to reject you like I did.”

 

The tension in the room seemed to thicken even further. Keith’s arms folded tightly across his chest, his expression becoming even more guarded.

 

Lance ducked his head awkwardly, and hastily elaborated. “She’s done so much to you and Shiro, and I  _ know _ how important he is to you. I was worried I’d be a reminder of everything you almost lost because of her. First Kerberos, and the arena, and his  _ arm _ , and then that whole thing on the Weblum’s Breath, because there’s no way that didn’t mess him up and you almost lost him  _ again _ , and that’s without even getting into everything she did in the other timeline…” He trailed off uncertainly. The silence in the room was stifling.

 

Then, almost imperceptibly, he felt the tight coiling of Keith’s muscles beside him ease just a little. “You...were worried about hurting me.” He murmured slowly, a trace of disbelief in his voice.

 

He nodded vigorously, tucking his knees up to his chest. “Yeah. I mean, I know I hurt you by rejecting you, too, and I’m sorry. I just thought...I guess I thought that would hurt you  _ less. _ ”

 

“It didn’t.”

 

Flinching at the sharpness in Keith’s tone, Lance scrubbed his hands through his hair. “I know. I screwed up big time, and I can’t apologize enough. And I don’t expect you to forgive me, either. Not after a dumb mistake like that. You trusted me, and I hurt you, and it’s gonna take a while to fix. Maybe I can’t fix it at all. But...I’d really like to try, if you’ll let me.”

 

Another pause. Then, so softly he almost missed it: “Why?”

 

This was it. Moment of truth. Keith had laid himself bare to Lance before, made himself vulnerable, and ended up getting burned for it. So the best way Lance could think of to begin mending the trust he’d ruined was to lay himself bare in return. And if it didn’t go so well, well, he had no one to blame but himself.

 

“Because,” he said slowly, choosing his words carefully. “I’m in love with you, too. I have been for a long time. I just...never said anything because I didn’t think you’d feel the same way, and I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

 

Keith’s head had snapped up and those dark eyes were staring at him in naked shock as Lance pressed onward. “It doesn’t excuse what I did, and I understand if it’s too late. But I thought you deserved to know that I do return your feelings, and if you do decide to give me another chance I promise I’ll do my best not to screw up like that again. I swear, Keith, the  _ last _ thing I ever want to do is hurt you, and I only did it to try to keep you safe.” He ran out of words then and leaned back against the wall again. That was it. He’d said what he needed to, and it was up to Keith what he wanted to do with it.

 

The silence that filled the room after his declaration was the heaviest one yet. Keith stared at him for a long time and Lance felt his cheeks burning under his unreadable gaze before the other teen turned away again, leaning against the wall.

 

Finally the quiet became too much to bear. “Aren’t you going to say anything?” Lance whispered hoarsely. Good or bad, he needed an  _ answer _ , so he could stop coiling himself up like a spring wound too tight.

 

Keith simply shook his head. Under them, the speeder glided to a stop and the increased chatter outside the little storage room told him they’d finally reached the caves. The red paladin uncoiled, reaching to push open the access panel. Then he paused, glancing back at Lance. “...I just need some time to think.”

 

Lance could only nod mutely as Keith disappeared out into the daylight.

 

_____

 

Kurogane groaned as he climbed out of the speeder. “We should see if any of the Icebringers want to switch with us on the way back. I don’t think my head is straight on my neck anymore.”

 

Laughing, Alejandro shook out his arms and stretched, several joints making popping sounds. “Might not be a bad idea. Although we’ve crammed ourselves into worse places before, remember?”

 

“Don’t remind me.” His partner grumbled. “It was more bearable when our lives depended on it.”

 

“What, don’t you like being squished up against me?” Alejandro teased, and grinned at the way the comment made the other’s cheeks darken. He took a deep breath of fresh air and shaded his eyes to look up at the cliffs and the cloudless blue skies. “...I forgot how hot this place was.” He admitted softly. The last several days had been a constant flow of sensation, refreshing memories that had faded with time and distance. Every time he turned around it seemed like there was something new that he should have known but had slipped away through the cracks.

 

Kurogane’s hand landed on his shoulder, pulling him away from that train of thought, and Alejandro raised an eyebrow at the smirk on the other man’s face. “What are you--”

 

“Hot like Mexico?” One dark eyebrow wiggled at him as Kurogane sang the line, and Alejandro burst out laughing as he shoved him away.

 

“Oh my god. We’re in  _ Arizona! _ ” He choked out, smacking his partner’s arm as he launched into the chorus. Since rediscovering that song (no doubt thanks to the rest of the McClain-Martinez family) he’d been teasing him with it at any opportunity.

 

“I’m not your babe, I’m not your babe,  _ Fernando~! _ ”

 

“I have been a  _ terrible _ influence on you.”

 

Kurogane kept singing playfully in his ear as they made their way over to join the crowd hovering by the entrance to the cave. Alejandro let him, lacing their fingers between them and unable to keep a broad smile off his face. Despite everything, the last ten days had left him feeling lighter than he had in years, and he was glad to see the man he loved feeling the same.

 

The crowd parted to let them through to where the rest of the Humans and Allura and Coran were already inside. The darkness of the cave was shockingly cool compared to the hot desert air outside, with a hint of moisture in the air from the wide hole in the floor that led down to the lower cavern where Blue had rested for ten thousand years. He could feel her touch in his mind, as curious about the carvings as anyone else here.

 

_ You don’t know what they are? _ He pushed the thought towards her.

 

Her response was a firm denial, and an impression of a figure in an Altean flightsuit, patting her leg goodbye before climbing into the small flight pod he’d packed in her cargo hold. He’d gone out of her view, probably to prepare the entrance, and that was the last she’d seen of him. There had been purpose to his movements, but sorrow, too.

 

Alejandro let her feel his sympathy, her loss aching in the bond. She seemed oddly hesitant about the whole thing, and he couldn’t blame her for not wanting to talk. Acalli may have become their enemy, but Fiorin had obviously been dear to her for all she’d only been bonded to him for a few years before they’d been pulled apart by the war. Instead he made his way to the wall and brushed his fingers over the dusty carvings.

 

A blue glow sprang to life under his fingertips and he jumped back in shock as it raced along the walls, tracing out the shape of the myriad carvings along the length of the cave. He heard startled exclamations from the others and a yelp of “It wasn’t me this time, I swear!” from Lance.

 

“Uh, sorry, that was me.” He called. Coran appeared beside him a moment later, studying the carvings.

 

“Fascinating! They must react to blue quintessence!” He stroked his moustache thoughtfully. “Which I suppose would make sense, since you would only want a potential paladin to be able to trigger the entrance. Although how would you know whether they were part of a viable set…”

 

Alejandro left him to his musing and headed further into the cave, Kurogane beside him. Lit up like this it was much easier to see the designs. They’d never gotten to take a proper look back then, before they found Blue and everything began.

 

Voltron Lions. Armored figures. Wormhole portals. Spaceships. Starmaps. Knowing what they did now, it was easy to recognize the things shown on the walls. Blue being brought to earth by her last paladin, left to wait for a new one, and finally the day the five of them arrived and ended up leaving Earth behind.

 

_ How did he know? _ He couldn’t help wondering as he gazed at the five figures and the stars over their heads.

 

“...With the information he had available to him, Keith’s interpretation was pretty much spot on.” Ryou was saying, patting the teen on the shoulder approvingly. “With what you guys have told us, it’s easy to understand this set of carvings. But I’m hoping you can shed some light on the ones down below, Allura. They’re some kind of alien language, I think.”

 

Allura nodded, hands clasped in front of her as she looked this way and that at the walls of the cave. “I’d be delighted. The last paladin of the Blue Lion was Altean, so that’s most likely the language the carvings are in. I’ll be able to tell you for certain once I’ve seen them.”

 

“Well, we’re just about done setting up the rappelling equipment.” He gestured to a H’ress and a Balmeran who were setting up a set of anchored winches and sturdy cables. Alejandro was familiar with the design, an easy-to-use way of getting down caves and chutes and other steep, inaccessible places when jetpacks weren’t available or an option.

 

Within a few minutes he was holding onto one of the cables with practiced ease as he descended into the dark shaft with a high-powered lantern in hand. The spray from the waterfall misted over him and he laughed as he heard Kurogane’s disgruntled complaints from one side and Keith’s irritated grunt from the other.

 

At the bottom, they clustered on the shore as they waited for the others to make their descent. No one wanted to miss out on hearing what the carvings said, and before long the spacious cavern was packed with aliens. Despite the crowding, though, they managed to keep a respectful space around the vast circle where Blue had once stood.

 

Setting up lights took more time. Whatever had caused Alejandro’s touch to light up the carvings on the upper level didn’t seem to be working down here, and the only illumination came from the high-powered lanterns they’d brought. It took a few Alteans shifting to much larger forms to properly illuminate the wall of carvings, off to one side of the circle in a place where they’d never have noticed it with Blue in front of it. As they waited, Alejandro examined the carvings curiously. It was definitely Altean, although the shifting shadows as the lights were moved around made it impossible to read.

 

Finally, though, everything was set up and Coran and Allura stepped forward to study the carvings, beginning with the pictographs at the bottom.

 

“These seem to be a recounting of the war and what happened with Blue.” Coran said, moving from one image to the next. “The first represents the universe as it was, Alteans and Galra living in peace, and Voltron with her first five paladins and the apprentice paladins.” He gestured to the groups of figures, first the larger ones, then the smaller. “And the second Zarkon’s betrayal.” His voice was sad as he ran his hand over the fallen figures of the red and green paladins and the yellow and black apprentices. “No doubt the purple figures on the Altean side represent the Blades, and the aqua ones on the Galran side the  _ amvel nayeta _ who followed Acalli.”

 

“This one is the Lions being sent into hiding.” Allura indicated the fourth image. “The apprentices left first, which is why it depicts Yellow and Black as still staying together.” There was a longing in her face as her fingers brushed over the yellow figure beside the two lions.

 

Coran nodded in agreement as he glanced at it before turning to the next ones. “These two depict the same part of the story from above. The Blue Lion awaiting a paladin, and the five of you finding your way to her.”

 

“And finally, the five of you taking up the mantle of paladin and forming Voltron.” Allura frowned at the final image. “...Aided by Coran and myself, to fight the Galra and Druids under Zarkon and Haggar.”

 

“What about the third picture?” Alejandro frowned as he gazed at it. There was something tantalizingly familiar about it, the feeling he should know what that aura around the blue lion and her apprentice paladin meant.

 

Allura frowned as she studied the image, glancing sideways at Coran. The advisor seemed equally puzzled as he looked it over. “...I’m really not quite sure.” He admitted after a long moment. “But perhaps the writing will shed some light on the matter. It may simply be a written recounting of the same information, for the sake of leaving a permanent record of the fall of Altea and why the Blue Lion was brought here.”

 

Stepping back from the wall to where he could see the uppermost lines clearly, he cleared his throat. The room was silent, the clusters of aliens waiting in eager anticipation to hear what legacy the second blue paladin might have left, and with a last glance at his audience Coran began to read:

 

_ “To the Paladins who will come after me, _

 

_ Let me begin by telling you how sorry I am. You do not know me, and you never will, but I know you, and I know that you are young, so very, very young to bear the burden which is now being placed upon your shoulders. _

 

_ Please understand when I also tell you that we have no other choice. _

 

_ In leaving, the traitors Zarkon and Acalli killed their sibling paladins and two of my own, putting Voltron permanently beyond our reach. Without it, we stand no chance against the Galra Empire. No one does. Altea has already fallen, and Zarkon has turned his sight outward for the glory and benefit of his people. Countless people will die, and there is nothing we can do. _

 

_ With no other options left to us, King Alfor, the first Paladin of Yellow, came to me. He told me of an aspect of which I was previously unaware, the blue aspect of Chaos, and charged me with finding our way forward. As he explained it to me, for all its wildness, chaos can also be predictable. If you know the initial actions that will lead to the future you wish to create, you can give shape to that future. And so I was asked to find a future in which Voltron would once more be in the hands of Paladins who would stand against Zarkon. Where a new set of paladins will come together before he can stop them, unite the Lions before he can find them, and form Voltron to destroy him once and for all. _

 

_ In the only such viable future I could find, those paladins are you. _

 

_ I know that we are asking much of you. Asking you to step to the front lines of an ancient war you had no idea existed, asking you to sacrifice your childhoods and the lives you led before and a thousand other things that only war can take away. But you are our last hope, for which those of us who remain will sacrifice everything fate has asked of us in order to craft the future that will bring you to where we need you to be. _

 

_ (I do not know which of us is sacrificing the most; Torlast of Red, who will die at the hands of Galran soldiers in two cycles’ time to ensure that the Red Lion will be brought within your reach at Arus; Marmora of Green, who will spend her life as Fate’s puppet counter to her nature and lying to her followers about the role they play in this war, that they will tear Zarkon down from the inside when they exist only to birth your Red Paladin and to one day return your Black Paladin to you; the Blue Lion, who will wait ten thousand lonely cycles before she can reach out to your Red Paladin to bind your set, granting the Black Paladin the aspects that will save his life and guiding you all to her when the time is right; or Alfor, who will send his husband and daughter away to wait for you, unable to tell them that they will awake in a world ten thousand cycles changed or that neither of them will ever see him again. Of all of us, simply being unable to act to save my people or my home seems perhaps the kindest of our fates. I only hope I can offer some comfort to Alfor when I rejoin him at Sh’raa H’ressnol to continue the work Fate requires of us. _

 

_ For all that we ask of you, remember that you still have the freedom of choice, as we no longer do.) _

 

_ I do not ask your forgiveness. Only your understanding, and that you will not abandon the fight if it still continues when you see this message, if you ever do. If we had a better option, we would not ask this of you. And once again, I am sorry that we do not. _

 

_ May the stars guide your fight. _

 

_ Fiorin Malteka Shon, _

_ Second Paladin of Blue” _


	50. Chapter 50

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: Nothing specific, but everyone is stressed and no one is handling it well.
> 
> Wow, guys! The response to the last chapter was absolutely incredible! Thank you so much, and I'm glad you all liked that bombshell I dropped~ Now you finally get to see the reactions!
> 
> (Also this chapter would have been up two hours ago but google docs is a lil bitch.)

The last echoes of Coran’s voice died away against the vaulted ceiling of the cavern, leaving behind a thunderous silence that filled every inch of the room. Everyone stood frozen as they tried to take in the meaning of what they’d just heard.

 

Kurogane gazed at the carvings in bewilderment. It was as though the world had suddenly tilted twenty degrees to the left and everything he thought he knew was suddenly altered completely when viewed from the new angle. He knew what he’d heard, and yet the pieces refused to fit together in his mind.

 

Everyone else seemed just as thrown as he was. He could hear Pidge muttering under her breath about coincidences and statistical improbabilities while she tugged at her hair in consternation. Coran had gone pale and grabbed at Allura’s arm for support, and Shiro was just shaking his head slowly side to side, his expression one of utter disbelief. The others seemed rooted where they stood, as tongue-tied with shock as he was.

 

Not that he could blame them. They’d all come down here for old time’s sake, thinking they’d find, at most, a recounting of the events of the war, and instead they’d found...what, exactly?

 

A revelation that nothing was what they thought it was. That Alfor and the surviving apprentices had known  _ ten thousand years ago _ who would find the lions and take up the fight against Zarkon and Haggar. That they’d deliberately influenced the flow of events to  _ make _ it happen. To return Shiro to Earth that night, to guide them to Blue, to bring Red to them at Arus. Those facts alone were so staggering his mind rebelled at them, unable to go further. It was like that moment in Blue all over again, when the distant stars had suddenly been replaced by metal walls and all thought had frozen up, leaving him unable to comprehend what had happened, unable to do anything but react on automatic to movement in the hallway outside the cockpit.

 

But just like back then, like always, Alejandro’s mind was faster, didn’t lock up, had probably already raced ahead through a thousand implications. He felt his partner’s stiff muscles coiling tighter beside him a moment before he burst out with a particularly vicious Velkwin curse that drew all eyes to him.

 

Alejandro seemed unaware of their attention, his features twisted into an expression of pure fury that looked out of place on his usually smiling face. His gaze was locked on the carvings, fists clenched so tightly his knuckles were white. “They killed them.” He said quietly, almost to himself, but his voice was clearly audible in the silence of the cave.

 

Kurogane stiffened, putting a hand on the other’s shoulder, his partner’s distress driving every other thought out of his head. “Killed who? What do you mean?” He asked in a low voice. He’d only seen Alejandro angry, truly, implacably furious, a handful of times, and it never ceased to be jarring. He could feel his own muscles tensing in response, ready for a fight.

 

“I mean that  _ they _ ,” Alejandro’s voice rose stridently as he waved a hand violently toward the message, and Kurogane realized he meant the previous paladins, or the ones who had survived, anyway, “ _ killed _ our family! Everyone we cared about! Every single one of them died in the timeline  _ they _ created!”

 

The echoes of his shout died away, leaving expressions of horror on every face. Allura in particular looked ashen, and Lance was white as a sheet. Alejandro didn’t so much as glance at them, spinning out from under Kurogane’s hand and striding toward the ropes that led back to the surface. Kurogane followed, his mind spinning. Of course they had. The timeline they’d left behind, the one lost to total domination by the Galra Empire, with Voltron dead and the Earth dead and the Blades dead and the paladins, his family, dead, was the unaltered future that followed the events Alfor and Fiorin and Marmora and Torlast had tried so hard to create, where Voltron was formed once more by paladins who would oppose Zarkon.

 

Fiorin had looked into the future to find those moments. But he hadn’t looked far enough to see what came after them.

 

Alejandro had reached the ropes and activated the winch ahead of him, and by the time Kurogane reached the upper level, still lit by the soft blue glow of carvings that now seemed to mock him, his partner was a small figure by the entrance, sitting slumped in the thin layer of sand intruding onto the rock of the cave. Kurogane hesitated, unsure of what to do. He was still reeling himself. So he let his body guide him instead, moving to sit beside Alejandro and wrap an arm around his shoulders to pull him close.

 

He could feel the other shuddering against him and began to rock them both slowly. Silent comfort for when they both knew that words couldn’t fix the pain.

 

Kurogane closed his eyes and leaned his head against Alejandro’s, shutting out the desert sand and the soft blue glow of the carvings that had spelled out his family’s fate long before any of them were born.

 

______

 

Horror and nausea curled in Lance’s gut in the wake of Alejandro’s departure.

 

_ Blue, _ he called mentally,  _ did you really do this? _ He wanted to beg her to deny it, to tell him that she hadn’t played a role in destroying everything his other self had cared about, no matter what that message left by his predecessor said.

 

A pause, then a soft touch, heavy with guilt and shame in response to his distress. She had, because it seemed like the only solution. She hadn’t known any more than her Paladin had about where those actions would lead.

 

Blue nudged his memories and he let her, closing his eyes and tuning out the whispered conversations and the sound of the Icebringers moving away to give them all privacy. She pulled up a memory of Lance sitting on her paw, gazing up at her with sadness in his eyes.

 

_ “He said he can sense you, but he can’t hear you. I can’t even imagine how much that would hurt if it were me. Blue, they’ve already lost a whole lot. Do you think...I mean, we’re basically the same person anyway, right? Do you think it’s possible to connect to both of us at the same time? Give him at least that much back?” _

 

She had, and felt Alejandro’s joy and relief at the return of the connection. But as the bond strengthened and stabilized, she could see his memories, see agonizing loss after agonizing loss and layer upon layer of grief. With mounting horror she realized that those sorrows had followed from the moment of triumph Fiorin and Alfor had sought. The one she’d helped create.

 

Lance swallowed hard against the lump in his throat as Blue’s sadness washed over him.  _ So you really didn’t know. Not until Alejandro and Kurogane arrived and told us what would have happened. _

 

A quiet confirmation, and a momentary flash of an image, the burning sword of Voltron running Zarkon’s armor straight through. Victory, they’d thought, and looked no further. Foolish assumption. Instead that path had led to total defeat.

 

_ It’s not your fault, Blue. _ Lance could feel her denial of that statement, her guilt, and his own shock and horror gave way to sympathy.  _ You were doing what you thought was right, in order to protect people like you were created to do. It’s not your fault it turned out to be a mistake. _

 

He could feel her reluctance to accept that statement, the guilt still twisting through her mind as she refused to relinquish the blame for actions whose consequences she couldn’t possibly have known. _ Like Paladin, like Lion?  _ Lance thought to himself, and couldn’t help chuckling softly at the irony of him trying to give Blue a lecture about not blaming yourself for what wasn’t your fault after getting much the same speech from his mom just a few days earlier.  _ C’mon. It wasn’t your fault, just bad luck. We thought he was dead too, remember? Don’t make me do my Mami impression at you. _

 

There was a slight pause, and then the knot of tension in her part of the bond eased just a little with the faintest ripple of amusement. Not total belief in his reassurances yet, but it was a start.

 

______

 

Coran stared at the carvings in shock and dismay. It couldn't be. He couldn't have just read what he thought he had.

 

Beside him, he could feel Allura trembling under his hand. "He knew?" She whispered, soft enough for his ears only. "Father knew?"

 

He felt her hurt and betrayal as keenly as his own. Waking up here, in this time, with everything and everyone they had known long returned to the stars, had been agonizing. Only sheer necessity had kept him moving forward, providing support to his daughter and to the new Paladins allowing him to push his shock and grief aside the time being. It had taken quite some time for him to somewhat come to terms with it, with the fact that his remaining life partner was gone, that his homeworld was gone, that his husband's plan had gone disastrously awry and allowed Zarkon ten thousand cycles to conquer and subjugate entirely unopposed.

 

Except that it seemed that had been the plan all along. Ten thousand cycles to ensure that a new set of paladins would deliver the Lions safely to Arus and rise up to defeat Zarkon once and for all. Ten thousand cycles for a victory Alfor had thought was secure, rather than a safety measure intended to last only a few. 

 

Memories surged, unbidden. Alfor’s frustration as he tried to convince Coran to go to Arus and enter cryostasis, unwilling and unable to tell him why or for how long. The desperation in the kiss they’d exchanged before Alfor left, like it might be the last time they did. The disconnect between Pidge’s theory about the founding of the Blades and what Coran had known about the second Green Paladin, her personality and skills. The idle thought, seeming so long ago now although it had been only decarotations, that it was an incredible fluke of probability for an entire viable set of Paladins to stumble across one of the Lions together.

 

No fluke at all. It had been planned. It had all been planned, by Alfor, by Fiorin, by Marmora, by Torlast. They’d dedicated the remainder of their lives to ensuring it would happen. And casting Allura and Coran alone and unprepared into a war-torn future had been part of that plan all along.

 

He reached out and drew his trembling daughter in to his arms, tucking his head under her chin and swallowing hard against the lump in his throat. “Yes, Allura.” he whispered in a voice gone rough with fresh hurt and anger as she muffled a sob in his shoulder. “Yes, he knew.”

 

_____

 

Matt glanced over as Avenol started quietly shepherding the other Icebringers back toward the ropes to the upper level. The Altean caught his eye and gave a single grim nod. What had started out as an exciting trip to a long-unknown historical site had ended in painful revelations for the Paladins and the rest of their group, and the rest of the aliens unexpectedly found themselves intruding. They needed time and privacy to deal with the shock. And while undoubtedly the Pack Leaders and certain other wise elders like Malrento would be told, Matt didn’t doubt for a second that his packmates would keep what had happened here to themselves until the paladins were ready to share.

 

He appreciated the respect. God knew there was anger bubbling in his gut. Everything,  _ everything _ that had happened to the people he cared about was because of this, the chain reaction of events the previous paladins had started. If the Blades had never been formed by Marmora, Kovirak wouldn’t have come to earth when she did, if at all, would never have fought Human soldiers to protect her child. Without that encounter, the Arizona Garrison wouldn’t have been formed when and where it was. The Kerberos mission would have happened at a different time, in a different place, with different people on board.

 

His Dad would still be alive.

 

Matt forced himself to take a deep breath. Being angry was useless. What was done was done, and couldn’t be altered. Concentrate on the now, deal with the situation at hand.

 

“Takashi.” He murmured, stepping forward to place a hand on his boyfriend’s shoulder. The other startled, glancing up from his right arm to look at him. “Are you okay?”

 

Takashi took a slow breath and shrugged, folding his arms across his chest. “Maybe? I think so? It’s just…”

 

“A shock?” Matt quirked an eyebrow. Understatement of the century.

 

His boyfriend nodded, swallowing hard as he glanced toward the wall of carvings again. “Yeah. Ulaz saved my life and while I never got the chance to really ask him why he did it, the thought that it wasn’t only meant to happen, that it’s the whole reason the Blades were created…” He trailed off.

 

“Not the whole reason. Keith wouldn’t even exist without them.” Matt jerked his head toward the red paladin, who was still staring at the carvings and looking completely gobsmacked. “They’ve helped in other ways too.”

 

“True. All part of the plan, I guess.” Takashi grimaced, his gaze flicking across his variously stunned or distressed friends. “We should get out of here.” He said after a moment. “We know what the message says now, for better or for worse. We need to be heading back. Once it’s had time to sink in for everyone, we can talk about.”

 

Slipping back into leader mode in order to feel in control of things again. Typical Takashi, but he wasn’t wrong, and Matt wasn’t about to try to keep him from coping with this mess. “Right. I’ll help you start rounding them up.”

 

They split up, Takashi heading for the visibly-distressed pair of Alteans at the far side of the room. Matt watched him for a moment before turning and heading towards his sister, who had pulled up her wrist computer and was typing furiously while muttering under her breath. His hand landed on her shoulder and she jumped with a small shriek. “Sorry! Didn’t mean to startle you. You okay?” He gave her an apologetic grin as she glared at him.

 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” She huffed. “Just totally  _ mindblown. _ I mean, can you believe this? They basically made chaos theory work in reverse by backtracking from the desired output to find the requisite initial conditions! Can you imagine how much work that must have taken? They would have basically had to have their entire  _ lives _ choreographed for them to make sure they wouldn’t contaminate the flow of the timeline! And it  _ worked _ ! Across ten thousand years! It’s insane!”

 

“Guess that explains Marmora, too, then, huh?” He chuckled. As painful as the whole thing was, he did have to agree that as a concept, it was fascinating. Chaos theory was still at the leading edge of Earth science.

 

“Yeah. Coran was right about the Marmora who founded the Blades seeming very different from the one he knew.” Katie turned back to her computer to resume her rapid note-taking. “She was literally not acting like herself. And she wouldn’t even have been able to tell anyone, unless the script called for it.”

 

“It must’ve been hard.” Matt murmured. His gaze flicked back to the carvings, finding the line about Marmora and everything she’d done. “She was separated from anyone who could understand what she was going through.” A familiar ache settled in his chest just thinking about it. Isolation. Not quite the same kind as what he went through, but intense isolation all the same.

 

The rattle of keys stopped and a moment later small fingers laced with his own. He glanced down and saw Katie looking up at him with a serious expression. “You’re not alone anymore, Matt.” She reminded him, voice soft. 

 

Deep breath in, deep breath out. “Yeah. I know.” He managed a weak smile down at her. “Look, we’re headed to the Marmora base after we leave, right? Maybe she left some records of what she did.”

 

Katie perked up at that suggestion and she gave a vigorous nod. “Yeah, you’re right! Think Kolivan will let me dig around in their files?” She grinned.

 

Matt snorted, thinking of the few communications from the dour Galra he’d heard so far. “I dunno. But you never know until you ask.”

 

______

 

Ryou glanced over his shoulder, surveying the occupants of the speeder. The trip out to the cave had been noisy, excited chatter and theories flying every which way, but now a heavy quiet filled the crowded space.

 

Beside him, Allura's grip on the speeder's control's was white-knuckled, and her mouth was set in a thin line. The computer was retracing their route back to the Castleship, and judging by her distant gaze he wasn't sure her attention was on the rocks and sand around them at all.

 

Directly behind him, Katie and Hunk were talking in muted whispers. Katie was the only one who seemed the least bit happy about what they'd discovered, at least for the scientific value, but even she was subdued in the face of everyone else's reactions. Hunk looked strained even as he read her notes over her shoulder, and Ryou could only imagine what was going through the boy's head. He'd already fought with his family about the necessity of returning to battle. Ryou couldn't see him being eager to admit to them that apparently he'd never really had a choice to start with.

 

In the other seat, Kovirak was staring out at the blur of passing rock walls with narrowed eyes. She hadn't said a single word since the cavern as far as he'd noticed, but there was an obvious tension in the way she carried herself, a definite anger about something she'd learned. To do with the Blades? Or because of her son being put on the front lines?

 

Through the open door of the little storage space, he could just see Kurogane and Alejandro. The lanky former blue paladin was curled up in his partner's lap, held close in a protective embrace. The fury from earlier was gone, as was the misery both had worn when the rest of the group emerged from the lower level. Hunk and Lance had taken one look at them before pulling them into a tight, wordless embrace that seemed to startle them both before they accepted the comfort. Within moments everyone had joined the large group hug, and it was minutes before anyone pulled back, all drawing silent comfort from each other. Now, sitting in the back of the speeder, the two of them just looked tired, and Ryou ached for them. Bad enough to have lost everyone you cared about without finding out it was because someone had been playing games with your lives.

 

He turned to face forward again as the little craft broke away from the last of the canyons, streaking across more open space between columns of rock. In the distance, the Icebringer ships were looming hulks and the Castle of Lions a cluster of slim spires. All too soon they'd be back there, and preparing to take off back into space, heading back to battle against the far-flung Galra Empire.

 

He wished these kids had more time to come to terms with this new blow before then.

 

_______

 

Hunk flopped down on his bed and curled up, clutching anxiously at the tablet in his hands. Once they'd reached the Castle Coran had solemnly told them that they could go take a few minutes to contact their families and let them know they were about to take off while he and Allura made last minute preparations for launch and confirmed the readiness of the other ships. Hunk hadn't needed to be told twice, jogging off down the hallway with his head still spinning from everything they'd learned.

 

Now his fingers trembled with anxiety and he had to force himself to take a calming breath before he keyed in the contact information for the communicator he'd left with his parents. They must have been keeping it close by because they picked up before the first ring had ended and he found himself laughing in spite of himself as he saw his Mom and Mama's faces squished together in the middle of the frame to make sure he could see them both. "Hunk, sweetheart!" Mama's smile was teary, but genuine, and he couldn't help but return it weakly.

 

"Hi Mom, hi Mama." He shifted on the bed,  sitting up and resting the tablet on his knees so he could see it properly. "We're going to be leaving shortly, so I thought I better call and let you know."

 

His Mom sighed, giving a small nod. "Alright." He could still hear the reluctance in her voice, see it in her face. Even after the fight they'd had, she still wasn't happy about him going, even if she realized the necessity. "Thank you, baby. And remember, I expect you to call us regularly now, okay?"

 

"I know. I will, promise." He gave a small chuckle. "I miss you guys already and I haven't even left yet."

 

"That goes double for us. You're sure you can't stay?" One last, hopeful plea.

 

Hunk sighed and shook his head. "No, Mom. I really can't. You know that."

 

Fetuilelagi grimaced. "It was worth a try." She hesitated, seeming to look him up and down through the computer screen. "...Is everything alright? You seem upset about something." Beside her, La'ei straightened, expression rapidly shifting to one of concern.

 

He bit his lip, then shook his head. "It's...kinda complicated? And I don't really know how I feel about it yet." He admitted. Pidge's notes on the implications for accepted chaos theory models had been a welcome distraction from his own mixed-up emotions on the ride back from the cave..

 

"Tell us about it?" His Mama invited gently. "It might help you sort through your feelings."

 

She wasn't wrong, it was a tactic they'd used many times before to help him adjust to situations he struggled with. Even after befriending Lance, the Garrison had been a strange and confusing experience and it had taken a long time and a lot of talking to his parents before he'd managed to decide that yes, he did want to keep going and see this through, no matter how nerve-wracking it was. But they were always there for him when he needed to talk about his problems, big or small.

 

"Yeah. Okay." He managed another small smile, shifting to get more comfortable. "So...we ended up having a few extra hours to kill this morning, because of some last-minute repairs to one of the other ships. I know I sent you a message about that last night. So we decided to all go look at the cave nearby where we found Blue. Mrs. Holt and Shiro's brother found a bunch of carvings there while they were trying to figure out what happened to us, and we never really got a chance to look at them last time, for obvious reasons." He chuckled weakly.

 

Mom snorted in agreement. "Yes, Colleen mentioned those. I take it you found something  interesting?"

 

Humming, he nodded. "Basically, it was a message from Blue's previous Paladin, Fiorin. The one who brought her to Earth and hid her here." He took a deep breath. Here came the hard part. "And it turns out he and the others basically...they looked into the future? And figured out what they'd need to do to make a set of viable paladins get control of Voltron before Zarkon could get his hands on any of the Lions?"

 

Fetuilelagi frowned and La'ei gave him an uncertain look. "Hunk, baby, what exactly are you saying?"

 

He pressed a hand over his face, trying to ignore the way it shook. "Basically, it was all planned. Kerberos, us finding Blue, Red being brought to Arus, the Blades, and a whole bunch of other stuff too. Fiorin and the others made it all happen by finding out what starting point would lead to it happening." He swallowed against the lump in his throat. Just listing off everything they’d done was almost overwhelming. "They chose us to be their successors because they thought we would successfully defeat Zarkon when we fought him a few months ago."

 

The fury on his Mom's face made him falter from speaking more, and even his Mama looked angry. Abruptly, Fetuilelagi spun away from the conversation and grabbed a couch cushion to scream into it while La'ei closed her eyes and took a deep calming breath. Hunk chewed his lip anxiously as he watched their reactions.

 

Finally it was La'ei who spoke, and when she did her tone had a sharpness he couldn't remember ever hearing from her in all his eighteen years. "This Fiorin...since he hid the Blue Lion, I'm going to have to assume he's long dead?"

 

"...As far as we know, yeah." But at this point, with everything else suddenly turned on its head, he wouldn't put it past the universe to throw them another curve ball, so he couldn't be entirely certain.

 

"Fortunate for him." She grumbled darkly, then sighed. "This doesn't change anything, does it. I know it’s a shock, but it doesn’t change the fact that you still need to fight, still need to take down Zarkon, regardless of how you ended up with that task."

 

A knot in his chest seemed to loosen slightly. She was right. It  _ didn’t _ change things. It was okay to just put his feelings aside and come back to them when he felt better able to sort through them. "No." He shook his head sadly. "I still gotta go. Accident or pre-selection, I'm still the only Yellow Paladin we have, y'know? But thanks, Mama. That helps. It really felt like the world was standing on its head after what we found out, but you’re right, it doesn’t change anything. Just hurts."

 

La'ei heaved another sigh, wrapping her arm around Fetuilelagi's waist as she finally rejoined her, still scowling. "You’re welcome, sweetheart. I’m glad we were able to help make things a little easier. Give your friends hugs for us, will you? I imagine this must be just as hard on all of them. Especially those two... the time-travellers?"

 

"Alejandro and Kurogane. Yeah. It hit them really hard, especially because their timeline was the one that was originally created from what Fiorin and the others did..." He winced in sympathy as he remembered the raw pain in Alejandro's voice as he declared exactly what had happened, how their predecessors’ meddling with time had resulted in a world where the universe's last hope was utterly destroyed, until the only chance they had left was to deliberately sacrifice the last Lion in order to go back and alter the course of history once more.

 

He froze. His Mom was saying something, but his mind was elsewhere.

 

Meddling with time. Fiorin and Alejandro had both done it, but in doing so, Alejandro had killed the Blue Lion while Fiorin hadn't. Definitely hadn't, because if he had there'd have been no Blue Lion for them to find, let alone form Voltron with. Why? Kurogane had also used the metaphysical aspect of his quintessence and it had killed Red, too, so what had Fiorin done differently?

 

"Sorry Mom, Mama, I really gotta go. I love you, I'll talk to you again soon!" Hunk blurted. He barely heard their confused responses as he disconnected the call and tossed the tablet aside. His mind was racing and his feet could barely keep up as he dashed out of the room and sprinted down the corridors to the bridge. Coran's queries went unheard as he burst through the doors, raced across the room, and slapped his hand down on the control panel, sounding an emergency meeting alert throughout the Castle. 

 

He was all but dancing on the spot from agitation by the time everyone arrived, their expressions ones of varying bewilderment. The last of them was barely in the door when he couldn't hold the question back any longer. "Why did using the Chaos aspect kill Blue for Alejandro but not for Fiorin?"

 

The others froze, staring at him in shock. Alejandro gaped at him, horror in his eyes, and then he wrapped shaking arms around himself. "I don't...you're right. Why? It makes no sense..." He trailed off, visibly rattled. "...You mean she didn't have to die?"

 

Hunk's heart nearly broke at the plaintiveness in the question. He shouldn't have dropped that on them like that, but he'd been so frazzled by the additional realization on top of everything else that all he could think of was that the others needed to know. It was an important question, and while instinct was more Keith's thing, he couldn't help feeling like it was one they really needed an answer to. "I don't know." He said quietly. "Maybe?"

 

Alejandro made a strangled sound and Kurogane and Colleen quickly stepped forward, each putting an arm around him. He jumped slightly, glancing over at the woman, but didn't pull away. She shot him a reassuring smile before looking back at Hunk. "How much do we know about these metaphysical aspects?"

 

"Not much." Kurogane admitted, glancing at her as he put a hand on his partner's shoulder. "Only the names of four of them, and descriptions of two of them in action."

 

"And the fact that using them killed our Lions." Alejandro's voice was barely a whisper. His eyes were closed, the strain of the day showing in his face.

 

Shiro frowned thoughtfully, crossing his arms. "Kurogane." The former red paladin's gaze snapped to the black paladin. "Didn't you two tell us that you learned about them from your timeline's Pidge? Holt?"

 

Kurogane nodded, frowning deeply. "Yes. She'd gone to Sh'raa H'ressnol looking for information that might help us. She sent us a message just as the planet came under attack. It got cut off before she could tell us anything more..." He trailed off, swallowing hard.

 

"So we need to go to Sh'raa H'ressnol, then. Find the same things she found." It was an obvious solution, and Hunk could only blame his frazzled nerves for letting him forget about Holt's final message. He  _ really _ needed to go do some deep breathing exercises, even if right now he was so keyed up he felt like he was turning into Lance.

 

"Yes." This time it was Allura who spoke, her expression grim. "Fiorin's message stated that he and my father regrouped at Sh'raa H'ressnol after hiding their Lions. Clearly there is more there than any of us were previously aware of, and as important as this war is, these answers are also necessary. If there is a way to use the metaphysical aspects without causing harm to the Lions, we may be able to use them to give us an edge against the Galra Empire." Her hands were clasped tightly in front of her, but Hunk could see them shaking slightly as Coran rested a hand on her shoulder. She hesitated. Her eyes went to Kurogane, just for a moment. Then she added, "...If we have the time, I would also like to discover exactly what became of my father. What he did, and when he died." Behind her, her father’s expression was grim, with a tightness to his eyes that Hunk had never seen him wear before.

 

"Of course. I think we all deserve some answers after all this, Princess." Matt shook his head, glancing at each of them in turn. "Once we're done at the Blades of Marmora, we'll go to Sh'raa H'ressnol. If we’re going to find them anywhere, it looks like that’s where they’ll be.”


	51. Chapter 51 (Start of Arc 3: Matter)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: brief description of past major character death and grief in the Kurogane POV section, especially the paragraph that starts with "He remembered the moment..."
> 
> Here we go, time for arc 3 to begin! At this time I would like to direct your attention to a minor tag update: major character fate worse than death. This is a tag for something that's been planned since I did the outlining at the end of arc 1, I just wasn't sure how to tag it. This thing also MAY or MAY NOT be temporary. As such, I would like to remind all of my readers that if there's anything you'd like to know about in advance for your own comfort and peace of mind reading this story, please, please, PLEASE message me. I like to break my readers' hearts but I want that heartbreaking to be safe, sane and consensual. If you need to know, ask, and I will answer if I can. Your mental and emotional health comes first. The major character fate worse than death especially falls under the same category as the major character deaths, in that I will happily tell you who so you can prepare yourself, and whether or not it's temporary if you ask.
> 
> I can be reached on discord (Spazzcat#9990), tumblr (@vldaspect or @dennymark-legobutt), fanfiction.net (this story is cross-posted there), or now twitter (@SpazzcatA). If none of those work for you, don't hesitate to let me know what does.
> 
> Finally, with season 6 dropping tomorrow, I want to let you all know that I've got another big project for VLD in the works! The Far Side of the Altar will be a multi-part series that diverges pre-canon, and makes use of canon worldbuilding through S5, some meta that makes sense to me and may or may not be canon, and some wild guesses on my part. It's still in the outlining stage, but I'll keep you guys updated on tumblr and twitter.
> 
> Without further ado: enjoy!

Massive engines hummed with power, revving back up from idle for the first time in several days. Gigantic thrusters flared to life, kicking up vast clouds of sand and dust. Slowly, with ponderous grace, the first Icebringer ships began lifting off the surface of Earth. Crowds of Humans watched in awe as the first publicly-known alien visitors to their planet began to depart one by one.

 

Among them, a much smaller, sleek white vessel lifted off with a roar of power, easily outpacing her more massive companions. Within minutes the Castle of Lions broke free of the atmosphere and settled into high orbit to wait while the other ships launched carefully, one by one, with the least battered ships providing escort to their hastily repaired sisters in case they ran into trouble.

 

On the bridge, Keith leaned against the wall, arms crossed tightly over his chest. Everything seemed to be happening at once, and he wasn't even sure what he should think about first. Lance's confession? The revelations about their predecessors, that his teammates were even now discussing with Malrento over the comlink to the Long Wind? Or the fact that within the hour they'd be headed for the headquarters of the Blades of Marmora, where the mother he'd just gotten back would face the judgement of her leader for her actions?

 

The first one was still painful. He didn't want to think about it yet. It was complicated and made his chest ache and his eyes burn and it was just too much right now. Even with Matt's reassurances and Lance's own explanation, he still didn't know what to do. It was easier to just not think about it for a while.

 

The second was...strange. He felt like he should be angry or upset the way the others were, but to be honest he was just...numb. It was a shock, yes, but at the same time it answered questions he hadn't even known he had. None of the others could feel each other's Lions. And yet for those months out in the desert, he'd been able to feel Blue, far away and calling to him. She'd been doing that on purpose, so that when he had the others with him, he'd take them to her. In a way it was almost a relief, to know that there wasn't yet another thing weird and different about him. He was strange in enough ways as it was.

 

Not for the first time, he wondered how much else of that strangeness was because of what he was. He lifted his head slightly, searching until his gaze landed on Kovirak where she leaned against one of the columns, arms folded much like his own. They certainly  _ seemed _ to have a lot in common, and yet...there were so many things he hadn't asked her. Afraid of the answers. Things that had made him an outcast throughout his childhood, ostracized by other children and unwanted by adults. He didn't understand the way people thought. He never knew the right thing to say or do. He hurt feelings and made people angry. He did weird things, liked weird things, never managed to fit in or make friends.

 

_ Freak. What's wrong with you? _

 

Keith shuddered, hugging himself tighter and digging his fingertips harshly into his arms. Maybe the reason he never understood Humans was just because he was half-Galra. But what if it wasn't? He hadn't dared ask. Hadn't let her see how messed-up he was, because what if she decided he wasn't worth it after all?

 

A sudden shift in the voices distracted him and he hastily refocused his attention towards the others. What was going on? Oh, all the ships were up. The glow of a wormhole lit up the screen off to one side, one of the Pack Ships gliding easily toward it.

 

"--rejoin the others once you've concluded your business with the Blades. Pack Leader Shiiar'keh wishes to formally offer an alliance to the Blades of Marmora."

 

"Thank you. I'm sure Kolivan will be pleased to accept. Although I'm not sure what his plan is going forward, with all of his undercover operatives compromised and forced to extract."

 

Off to the side, Keith noticed Kovirak ducking her head and closing her eyes at the reminder of what her actions had done to her fellow Blades. Biting his lip, Keith hesitated, then pushed away from the wall, circling around the others to stand beside her.

 

She glanced up in surprise at his approach, forcing a thin smile. "Hello, Kit. Everything alright?"

 

"...Mostly. Just a lot is happening." He said quietly. He tugged at his sleeve, trying to figure out what to say. Coming over here had been an impulse and he didn't know what to do next. "I was just thinking about how we're about to head to the Blades. That's gonna be..."

 

"...Difficult?" Kovirak finished for him with a slight quirk of her lips. She sighed heavily, shifting her weight. "Yes. I know. I betrayed my fellow Blades and they died for it. Their anger is to be expected."

 

Keith nodded. "What do you think will happen?" He asked softly. Would she be locked up? Exiled? Executed? In spite of himself, his breath caught at the thought of the last possibility. He'd just got her back.

 

Kovirak must've heard him, though, because her head turned slightly toward him and he could feel her glowing yellow gaze boring into the side of his head until he fidgeted uncomfortably. Then she turned away again. "I don't know." She admitted. "As far as I know, there's never been a case like this in all our history. The Trials are intended to weed out those who lack the strength of will to resist the urge to save their own skins at the expense of those of their fellow Blades." She gave a humorless chuckle. "However, they apparently don't reveal someone who will sacrifice anything, even themselves, for their child."

 

He hesitated, looking up at her and trying to hide the worry gnawing at his gut and ignore the blooming warmth her words had left in his chest. “Kolivan’s probably not going to cut you any slack for that." He pointed out. Unconsciously, his left hand went up to cover the hidden scar on his shoulder left from his own Trials. Kolivan hadn’t cared that he was a Paladin, that he was two feet shorter than any of the other Blades and lacking their claws and experience, that he didn’t even know what the knife was or what it represented beyond the fact that it was all he had left of his mother. To possess a Blade required you to be a Blade, and that meant passing the Trials. Kolivan’s dedication to his people was as uncompromising as it was unswerving.

 

Kovirak hummed softly and nodded. “No, and I wouldn’t expect him to.” Heaving a sigh, her shoulders drooped. “I know very well what I did, Keith. I made my choice and my fellow Blades died for it. I wish I'd had some other option, Kit, I really do. I would gladly have died if it meant you all would have been safe. But that wasn't the case, and I don't regret the decision I made."

 

He didn't know what to say to that. It wasn't the first time she'd mentioned choosing his life over that of every one of her fellows, but it still didn't make sense to him that he could possibly be so important to anyone. Even Shiro, who'd all but adopted him back at the Garrison, still didn't make sense to him, much less this Galra warrior who he didn't even remember. He looked away, watching another wormhole swallow an Icebringer ship.

 

Movement caught his eye. Shiro was coming toward them. "Hey. You doing okay, Keith?" He asked in a low voice as he reached them.

 

Keith gave a small nod. "I think so?" He murmured back. "It's just...a lot has happened."

 

"I know." Shiro sighed, putting a hand on his shoulder. "We'll take it one thing at a time, okay? First thing we need to do is go talk to the Blades." He took a long, deep breath, and Keith mimicked him out of habit, feeling his nerves start to settle a little. He hadn't even realized they were rattling in his skin.

 

Shiro awarded him a small smile of approval before turning to Kovirak. "Are you ready? We'll be heading to the Blade headquarters in a few minutes. Allura already sent a message on ahead to expect us."

 

She nodded, her posture deceptively relaxed. "Yes. I know. Whatever happens, happens. As long as he doesn't separate me from my son, I'll accept my punishment with honour." She lifted her chin defiantly. "I have a promise to keep, after all."

 

That seemed to please Shiro, who straightened and nodded in return. "If it helps, I'll vouch for your actions on the Weblum's Breath. Without you to distract Haggar during that fight, who knows what would have happened."

 

"Thank you, Shiro." Kovirak inclined her head respectfully. "I'm not sure how much good that will do, but I appreciate your willingness to take my side despite everything I've done."

 

"From what you described, you didn't have much choice."

 

"An honourable Blade would have chosen the lives of the entire organization over her own and a single child." There was a slight bitterness to her tone that caught Keith's attention and had Shiro raising an eyebrow. "I do have a request, though." She added before either of them could ask anything else. "I believe you made a recording of the translated message from the Blue Lion's cave? I'd like a copy of that to give to Kolivan."

 

 

Shiro blinked at the odd request. "Uh, sure, I think we can arrange that. Let me go take care of it." He turned away, heading to intercept Coran at one of the consoles, leaving the two of them alone once more.

 

Kovirak glanced down at Keith again with that unreadable yellow gaze. Whatever was going through her head, he couldn't begin to guess. "Don't worry. I won't break my promise to you." She said firmly.

 

_______

 

"Is everything under control here?"

 

It was a question Kolivan had found himself repeating a great many times over the last decarotation, ever since he had found himself forced to do what no Blade leader before him had done and activate the emergency recall signal. Over the first several vargas, first reports and then ships had slowly trickled in, undercover operatives and those stationed at secondary bases and outposts making their way to headquarters when they could or simply hiding out where they could not. All too many of those who reached base were injured, some critically--more than one shuttle or small craft had to be retrieved from the edges of the system, their occupants unconscious--and the medical ward had rapidly reached capacity and overflowed. Overworked medics had co-opted adjacent storage rooms and barracks into temporary wards and drafted anyone with even minor medical skill to stitch wounds and change bandages. It was a hectic, frantic time, and the corridors had reeked of freshly-spilled blood. Throughout it all, Kolivan helped wherever he could, organizing pickups for those who had no access to ships, overseeing the retrieval of those unable to traverse the treacherous passage through the gravity well, and assisting with a multitude of minor injuries. 

 

Even once the worst of the crisis was past he'd found himself constantly pacing the corridors, trying to take care of those who looked to him for protection. He would look into the makeshift wards and crowded bunkrooms, making himself available in case he was needed. It eased the feeling of helplessness that came from seeing his people so battered, broken, and utterly defeated.

 

At the moment, though, it seemed everything was in hand. The medic, Ozleka, looked up and gave him a weary smile. "Yes, Leader. Our injured continue to improve. I was just typing up the daily update report." He held up the tablet he was holding.

 

"Good. Very good." Kolivan allowed himself a sigh of relief. Too many of the badly injured had slipped away despite the desperate efforts of the doctors, but it had now been over three rotations since the last death, either here or on ships still en-route, and he could only hope there would be no more. "Thank you, Ozleka. Make sure you rest once you're done. There are plenty of others who can watch the medical monitors for you."

 

Ozleka snorted, but didn't argue. "True enough. I'll find someone after I finish typing this up."

 

"You know where to find me should you require assistance."

 

"Yes. Pacing around the base fussing over anyone who will let you, despite the fact that everything is under control." The medic shot him a knowing look over his tablet. "You should rest as well. You'll think better for it."

 

Kolivan refused to let himself startle at the accuracy of the other Galra's comment. He'd done all he could to appear calm and in control of the situation, despite the fact that he had no idea what to do now, where to go from here. The Blades as an undercover organization were finished for the foreseeable future.

 

He forced himself to simply incline his head in acknowledgement. "Later. I must finish my rounds."

 

Ozleka simply snorted again, turning back to his report as Kolivan left and continued down the hallway. Despite the fact that it was the middle of the night-cycle on the base, the corridors were crowded with Blades. Headquarters had never been built to house this many at once, and he knew his warriors were rotating sleep shifts simply to compensate for the fact that there wasn't enough beds to go around. Every room that had space had been converted into a makeshift dormitory, with uninjured Galra often giving up their beds to those in worse shape.

 

He was checking in on one such improvised barracks when a messenger caught up to him, saluting him with a clenched fist as she caught her breath. "Leader. We've just had a message from the Castle of Lions. They and an allied vessel are expecting to arrive in the system within a varga."

 

He straightened, bristling unconsciously. This was something he'd been waiting for since the crisis began. He may not be able to heal his injured, or reassure his shaken warriors, but he could and would deal with the traitor who had caused so many deaths and utterly destroyed everything they had worked for for the past ten thousand cycles. "Thank you. I'm on my way."

 

Some of his agitation must have showed through--the last while had cracked his stoic mask more than he thought possible, apparently--because she jogged along beside him as he strode along. "Should I gather your seconds and tacticians for a tactical meeting with Voltron?" She asked, cocking her head to the side slightly.

 

"...Yes." They might as well take advantage of the opportunity, and his remaining sub-leaders deserved to bear witness to the traitor's punishment. "Bring them to the main meeting hall outside Hangar Three."

 

She nodded sharply and saluted again before darting away down another side corridor. Kolivan continued on to the main command deck, drawing every eye as he strode inside. "Status reports." He commanded automatically.

 

"The last three medical pickups are on their way back now." A young officer responded, scrolling down his screen. "Two other Blades are making their way back from Irelt sector via a freighter from the Klomackart belt. They'll be close enough to pick up sometime next decarotation."

 

He nodded, resting his claws on one of the consoles. "Good. No new reports?"

 

"No sir. Not since two rotations ago." The youngster's voice was sorrowful as his ears laid back slightly.

 

Kolivan sighed and nodded. There had only been a handful of miracles over the past decarotation, less than a dozen Blades who had escaped alive but been unable to contact them in the rotations immediately following the activation of the signal. He knew better than to hope there would be more."Very well. Voltron will be arriving soon for a conference, along with another ship. Make sure the defenses will allow them to pass."

 

Another Galra nodded, turning her attention to the monitoring systems. All the base defenses remained on high alert at Kolivan's order. Kovirak may have claimed the headquarters hadn't been compromised, but he was reluctant to trust in that statement after everything else that had happened.

 

The doboshes ticked by painfully slowly, with little to be done but wait. A supply ship checked in from a planet whose resistance group had often traded with them for food and supplies, but otherwise a thick silence reigned over the command deck.

 

"Wormhole detected, Leader." The Galra monitoring the defenses barked, startling everyone. "Castle's signature. Hold on--make that two wormholes. Unregistered signature on the second, but it's not Druid." He sounded baffled.

 

And well he should. The wormholes had very distinct energy signatures based on who was powering the teleduv. Until the Castle of Lions first came to headquarters, only Druid signatures had ever been catalogued. The difference between their wormholes and those created by the lost Princess were striking. But who could be calling up a wormhole that was neither Druid-made nor created by the Princess? Had they somehow found another Altean preserved in stasis like themselves?

 

"Visuals on the main display. Continue to monitor the wormhole signatures." Kolivan ordered sharply. A moment later the largest of the holographic screens flared to life and he inhaled sharply, bristling instinctively. That wormhole was large enough to pass an Empire battleship!

 

The smaller wormhole disgorged its vessel first, the familiar sleek white shape of the Castle of Lions gliding smoothly forth. The Blade Leader barely paid it any notice. His eyes were on the dark bulk of the second ship now emerging from the larger wormhole. Navy blue and flecked with stars, camouflaging it against the background of open space except where the relative motion of their star pattern betrayed their movements. He had heard of ships like this through his network, prison-raiders flying star-spangled ships, but it had been nothing more than rumors. Until now.

 

The ship completed its passage through the wormhole (blue like the Castle’s, not Druid purple, he notes) and the portals closed. A moment later the communications console chimed with an incoming connection request. Automatically Kolivan's hand slapped the keyboard to accept.

 

Princess Allura's face appeared on the smaller screen above the console. "Blade Leader Kolivan." She greeted with a respectful incline of her head. 

 

"Princess Allura." He returned. He studied her face for a moment. She looked oddly ruffled, as though her composure was forced. Behind her, the Black Paladin seemed even more intense than usual, arms folded tightly across his chest. "Black Paladin."

"Our apologies for the delay in meeting with you. Our allies' ships required substantial repairs." Despite the subtle discomposure, her voice was steady. "With your permission, we would like to land and meet face to face as soon as possible. There have been...developments which must be discussed."

 

Kolivan couldn't have missed that hesitation if he'd tried. He frowned deeply. The last thing he needed was another crisis endangering his remaining Blades. "Very well. The passage should cycle open in another forty-two doboshes. Hangar three will be open for you. Ensure you bring the traitor with you." He added with a growl.

 

Behind the Princess, he noted the Black Paladin's grimace, but Allura simply nodded. "Of course. We will see you shortly, Kolivan." With another respectful incline of her head, the connection broke.

 

Kolivan growled, spinning away from the console. "Contact me if there are any problems." He commanded. Then he strode from the room, heading for hangar three.

 

________

 

"That could have gone better."  A voice commented at Shiro's elbow, making him jump.

 

"Ryou!" He yelped, spinning to face his brother. "Don't sneak up on me like that!" Then his frown changed to an expression of concern. "Wait, what are you doing here? You're supposed to be on Earth!"

 

Ryou grinned unrepentantly. "What, you didn't think I was going to let you vanish into the wild black yonder again and not come along to keep an eye on you, did you? I promised Mom, Dad, and Ma that I'd look out for you and I intend to do just that." He clapped a hand on Shiro's shoulder.

 

Shiro hesitated a long moment. Being up here meant his brother would be in constant danger, which was terrifying. But he couldn't deny that he'd missed him, missed their light-hearted jokes and the feeling of having someone to confide in. He trusted Matt completely, but at the same time knew Matt had his own traumas and Shiro was reluctant to burden him more than he had to. Bad enough that he’d already had to deal with Shiro falling apart twice now. Finally he sighed and clapped his own hand overtop of Ryou's. "You sneak. Welcome aboard, then, I guess." He chuckled, shaking his head in mock despair.

 

"Glad to be aboard." Ryou smirked back, clasping Shiro's hand for a moment before stepping back. "So, that was Kolivan?"

 

Shiro nodded, glancing back toward the screen. "Yes. The Leader of the Blades of Marmora."

 

Ryou hummed thoughtfully. "Charming fellow. But I guess under the circumstances, he has every right to be pissed off."

 

"Absolutely." In spite of himself, Shiro's gaze flickered to Kovirak where she still stood leaning against the wall. Even without knowing the exact death toll, it was easy to see Kolivan would not be kind to the one who had caused the deaths of so many, even under the circumstances she'd been facing. Worry gnawed at him. She had made a promise to Keith that she wouldn't abandon him again, and she obviously intended to try to keep it, but would she be allowed to? If they took her down to that base, would she be allowed to leave it again alive? Right now they couldn't be sure of anything. Sighing, he gave a small shake of his head. "We should start getting organized. We only have another..." he glanced at a timepiece on the wall "thirty-eight doboshes before the passageway opens."

 

He stepped away from his brother, heading for Kovirak. "Are you ready?" He asked quietly. "Coran is making that copy of the message you requested." He wasn't sure what she needed it for when they were planning to discuss it with the Blades afterward anyway. But if it helped keep Keith from being hurt again...

 

She gave him a small nod, her expression troubled. "As ready as I can be." She admitted in a low voice. "But I've never seen Kolivan so...expressive. The situation down there must be..."

 

Thinking of the times they'd spoken to the normally stoic Galra in the past, Shiro couldn't help but agree. Even with his limited experience at reading Galran faces, the anger had been easy to see, as had the stress and worry just under the surface. The betrayal and its consequences had badly rattled the old leader, and Shiro couldn't shake the feeling that it meant bad news. "Maybe we can help." He murmured. "The Castle has cryo replenishers. We can help with some of the worst injuries." It wasn't much but the Blades were allies and Shiro intended to help however he could.

 

The smile Kovirak gave him was grateful, but with a hint of sadness. "It's a nice thought, Shiro." She dipped her head respectfully. "Unfortunately, the injured are only part of the problem. Far bigger is the loss of access to inside information. The Blades are a covert organization, they always have been. I have been buying my son's life for years with names of those working undercover, and that was far from a complete list. And now all that hard work is gone. In a single strike, the primary way of life of the Blades of Marmora has been completely and permanently disrupted. Because of me."

 

Shiro's breath caught in his throat for a moment. She wasn't wrong. He'd been so focused on the smaller issues closer to home, like seeing his family and worrying about the other paladins and this whole mess with his arm, as well as worrying about how they were going to protect Earth and when they might see the Weblum's Breath back in action, that he'd neglected to consider all the implications of the Blade situation. The Icebringers gained intelligence by scouting, but they didn't infiltrate. The Blades dedicated years at a time to undercover work, passing information about all parts of the Empire back to their headquarters, and now that had all been taken away from them. It was a crippling blow, not just to the Blades, but to the entire alliance. After all, it was the Blades who had led them to where the Weblum's Breath had been built, even if that information had come just hours too late. This was going to set back their efforts against the Empire drastically. "What will they do now?" He forced himself to ask. What would they all do now?

 

Kovirak could obviously hear the unspoken question, and she gave him a wry, lopsided smile. "Learn. And survive. It's what the Blades of Marmora do best."

 

_______

 

Kurogane scowled, leaning against the wall outside the Red Lion's hangar. He'd left the command deck as soon as the conversation with Kolivan had ended. The others would be down here sooner or later to prepare for the trip to the base.

 

Seeing the strain on Kolivan's face had been painful. The old Galra had been a mentor to him long ago, before everything went wrong, helping him learn to understand the parts of him that were Galran and learn to use them instead of fear them. It hadn't fixed everything, not even close, but it had helped a little, and the Blade Leader's acceptance had meant a lot to him after a while. The other Blades, too, had treated him like one of their own. Teaching and occasional missions had given way to gentle teasing and warm greetings whenever they worked together. It was as if his little family had grown by several hundred aunts, uncles, cousins, and grandparents, at least as far as Alejandro had been able to help him understand the warmth in his chest when he thought of them. And in the middle of it all, Kolivan, a wise grandfather who he had looked up to, respected, admired, and, in some ways, loved.

 

And then they had all been ripped away. Numb amidst his shattered teammates in the aftermath of the Weblum's Breath, Kurogane had been the first to set foot inside the eerie silence of the Blade Headquarters after their communication requests had gone unacknowledged, their frantic demands for answers and explanations gone unheeded. He'd been the first to see the blood that painted the walls and the bodies that littered the floor, the copper reek stealing his breath away and freezing his heart in his chest. He remembered all too clearly his increasingly frantic sprint through the base, searching, pleading with a higher power he'd never once believed in, the baffled, horrified exclamations of his teammates ringing in his ears into indistinguishable noise.

 

He remembered the moment he'd found Kolivan, finally, a bloodied form that was limp and loose in a way the powerful figure had never once been in life, sprawled in the shattered rubble of Marmora's Stone. And he remembered the anguished howl that had torn free from his throat, so much like the sound the others had made over the broken remnants of Earth.

 

When they finally left the base he'd left his blade behind, jammed with all the strength he could muster into the heart of what was left of the Stone.

 

It was Kovirak's fault. She was the one who had betrayed her fellow Blades, had given them up one by one by one, simply to preserve a single life. Even if that life was his own, Kurogane hated her for it. His family shouldn't have been forced to die for him without ever being given a choice.

 

And yet...

 

And yet he couldn't suppress that twinge of shock in his chest when he thought about it. That she had chosen him,  the son she hadn't even seen since he was three years old, over her honorary brothers and sisters, over herself, over the universe itself. The other paladins and Allura had been brothers and sisters to him. Coran had been something like a father, for a time. The Blades, extended family. But no one had ever been his mother.

 

He'd seen the way she interacted with Keith. Heard the sincerity in her voice as she promised never to leave him again. Felt her gaze as she watched him but respected his anger by keeping her distance. And somehow the rage that had bubbled inside him ever since that day at the headquarters refused to be reconciled with the ache he felt whenever he watched her in return. He couldn't bring himself to wish her dead. Some small part of him that he was trying very hard to ignore did not want her to be taken away.

 

He closed his eyes, trying to ignore the turmoil raging inside him as the first approaching footsteps of the others became audible down the hall.


	52. Chapter 52

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: brief mentions of mass death and brief mentions of cubs being orphaned and people losing family members or partners.
> 
> I LIIIIIIIIVE.
> 
> Seriously, though, thank you guys so much for being so patient with me. The last month was just kinda one health issue after another and it took me a bit to get back into writer mode. I hope to not have another month-long gap before the next chapter goes up.

Kovirak took a deep breath to steady herself, tightening her grip on the data chip clenched in her fist, before stepping down the ramp and out of the Red Lion's mouth.

 

The tension in the room was so thick you could have cut it into bricks and used it to stop an ion cannon. Senior Blades, tacticians, weapons masters, mission planners, and information coordinators lined the edges of a wide open space around the Lion, and even though their masks concealed their features she could feel their anger, the weight of their gaze. Kolivan stood in the center and his unmasked expression was one of grim fury, his fur bristling, as he drew himself up to his full height at the sight of her. Around her, the others from the Castle of Lions shifted uncomfortably, unsure of how to proceed in this delicate situation.

 

However, it wasn't their job to do anything. It was hers.

 

She straightened, head held high, and stepped between the paladins, moving ahead of the group. She took several steady paces forward and stopped in the middle of the empty space, dropping to one knee and crossing her fist over her chest in a full-body salute to her leader. "Blade Leader Kolivan.”

 

It was impossible to miss the snarl that rattled between Kolivan’s teeth. "Traitor Kovirak. What do you have to say for yourself?" He hissed.

 

Kovirak remained kneeling, maintaining her gesture of respect. The fury of her fellow Blades seemed to press down on her, almost as heavy as the weight of guilt in her chest. There were gaps in those ranks along the walls. “I am sorry, from the depths of my very soul. Haggar had discovered me for a spy, and she forced me to choose between the lives of my fellow Blades and the life of my only child."

 

She could hear the sharp intakes of breath from some of them. She had never told anyone about the child she had birthed and been forced to leave behind, and in doing so now she threw the situation into an entirely new light. While sacrificing her comrades to save her own skin would have been entirely unforgivable and worthy of death, a cub was another matter. A mother's love was not something to be trifled with. Only Kolivan did not seem rattled by the revelation, but then, no doubt Allura had mentioned that in her message a decarotation ago. She wished she’d thought to ask exactly what the Princess had told the Blade Leader. "A child." He repeated, eyes narrowing. If anything, his fury only seemed to grow, his ears flat against his skull and his teeth openly bared.

 

"Yes. My child." She repeated. A thick silence invited elaboration. "Some twenty-five cycles ago, in my covert position, I was sent on an extended scouting mission along the borders of the Empire, in the Xelantyn sector. Part of the effort to identify places where the Voltron Lions may have been hidden." She couldn't help but feel her lips quirk at the irony. She had unknowingly spent years living just miles from the hiding place of the Blue Lion, in perhaps the last place on the planet she would have expected the water Lion to be. "My ship was damaged and I was forced to make an emergency crash landing on one of my assigned planets. I ended up befriending one of the local beings, one thing led to another, and by the time I was forced to leave...I was leaving behind my chosen mate and a three-year-old kit."

 

"You left your child. Was that wise?" The question came from one of the tacticians, a disapproving hiss to her words that Kovirak couldn't blame her for. “Especially considering where it led.”

 

She nodded respectfully to the tactician. "My son could pass for a local. I believed he would grow up safe and most likely untouched by the war since there was nothing to interest the Empire on that planet." Another irony. She'd been wrong on both counts.

 

Kolivan's frown only deepened, his lip curling derisively. "And yet Haggar discovered him." There was a stinging accusation in his tone.

 

Closing her eyes, she nodded again. "Yes. I don't know how. I swear on the Stone I don't. But even if I had killed myself rather than reveal the information she demanded of me, she would still have gone and killed him in retribution. She promised that and I had no reason to doubt her words."  Lifting her head, she looked Kolivan right in the eye, letting her guilt and certainty show in her face and trying to hide the way her heart raced in trepidation. "I am  _ sorry _ . I never wanted this to happen. But I will never regret protecting my child."

 

Whispers broke out around the room. Opinions seemed mixed on how to handle her actions. Yes, she had betrayed the Blades. Yes, she had cost many lives. But at the same time, a mother's instinct to protect her cub was undeniable and unquenchable. History was filled with the bloody proof.

 

Finally Kolivan held up a hand for silence. He had been glaring steadily at her, arms folded tightly across his chest. As the others fell silent, he spoke again, tone as cold as the vacuum of space itself. "One hundred and seventy-six."

 

The bottom seemed to fall out of her stomach.

 

"One hundred and seventy-six." He repeated. "That is how many of your fellow Blades of Marmora have died to save your cub. At least, that is how many have failed to report in since the emergency signal was broadcast, or have since died of their injuries." His expression was tight with rage. "One hundred and seventy-six, some with cubs of their own who will never see their parents again. For  _ one _ child. And you do not regret it."

 

Kovirak felt sick. To put a number, a specific quantity, on how many of her brothers and sisters had been killed by her actions, somehow made it a thousand times worse. But at the same time, she could not lie. She regretted the deaths. She did not regret her son's safety. Nothing would change that. But at the same time, unless she could force the other Blades to see the value of Keith's life, she would almost certainly be executed and be unable to keep her promise to never abandon him again. It was fortunate that fate and the machinations of their very founder had given her a way to do just that.

 

Her voice cracked as she spoke. "No." She swallowed hard, raised her voice, and tried again. "No, I won’t regret it, and neither should you, or they, or anyone here. Those one hundred and seventy-six lives," Kovirak had to raise her voice even louder to be heard over the angry mutterings that filled the hall. "Protected the child who grew up to be the Red Paladin of Voltron, Keith Kogane."

 

A ringing silence fell after that declaration. Masks turned, gazes shifting to the teen in red and white armor standing at the back of the room with his teammates. She could see the realization on Kolivan's face, the shock cracking through the anger as the pieces fell into place with that revelation. The moment they made the connection between her story and the first time Keith had come to the base, ignorant of his origins and with a Blade in his hands.

 

The data chip's sharp edges dug into her palm as her first tightened. "And before you tell me, Blade Leader Kolivan," she continued, those familiar eyes snapping from her son back to her as she pressed her opening, "that the Red Lion could have chosen another Paladin, I will tell you something that all our intelligence gathering in the Empire never could have found. Keith was  _ chosen _ to be the Red Paladin long before he ever met his Lion. Long before he and his teammates ever encountered the Blue Lion. He, and they, were chosen ten thousand years ago by Marmora herself and by the other paladins who survived Zarkon's treachery." She swallowed hard once more, forcing her hand to uncurl as she held up the chip toward her Leader with fingers that trembled from the delicacy of the situation despite her best efforts to keep them still. "We may have lost too many lives, and no longer be able to work by the covert means we once did, but the Blades of Marmora have fulfilled the true ultimate purpose for which they were created. The secret purpose that Marmora hid away and took with her to her grave."

 

"...And what purpose it that?" Kolivan's voice was hoarse with disbelief and frustration. Who could blame him? His world was being pulled out from under him once again.

 

She offered him a ghost of a sad smile, lofting the chip higher. "To birth the Red Paladin of Voltron, which I did. And to return the Black Paladin to his fellows one year after his capture, which Ulaz did. Everything else has been secondary to those two tasks. This chip contains a translation of a message left by Blue Paladin Fiorin in the cave of the Blue Lion, revealing exactly what he and his comrades did ten thousand cycles ago." She let out a slow breath, the strain of the situation heavy on her shoulders. "I don’t like it either. But it appears we've already done our duty, Kolivan."

 

The disbelief in his eyes was painful, and her heart ached in sympathy. She remembered her own shock, just a couple vargas earlier, as she stared at a carved stone wall and reeled from the way everything she had known had been upended. To learn that everything she had known, everything she had dedicated a large portion of her life to, was built on a lie, had stolen her breath from her lungs and set her fur on end. Every life lost in a Druid torture chamber, every Blade who died in battle on a mission, all the hard work and sacrifices of hundreds of thousands of Blades across ten thousand cycles, had been...unimportant. Pointless. Just part of the path to what really mattered. Anger had churned in her gut, then. They had been lied to and they had been used.

 

But lied to for a purpose, she’d realized, the memory of the message playing over and over in head on the journey back to the Castleship. To guide the course of fate to a future where the universe might have a chance to end the tyranny of the Empire once and for all. If Fiorin's search of the future hadn't turned out to have badly misjudged the moment of victory, they might now stand on the cusp of triumph with the first tyrant dead and two others still to be destroyed. It had, and they didn't, but she'd realized the truth of the matter was the same. Their planned role was over. Now the Blades would have to craft their own destiny.

 

________

 

Kolivan reeled.

 

This was not going how he had thought it would. He had come to this meeting expecting to punish the traitor for the deaths of his Blades, to get retribution and justice for the dead against the one who had stolen the lives of his warriors, his kin, for her own selfish end. And instead he found himself being told that her actions were preordained, planned out for her by the founder herself when the war was still barely begun.

 

He wanted to refute her claims. Call her a liar. But he could see the truth of them in the sorrowful faces of the Paladins, in the way not one of them stepped forward to denounce her statements. The discomfort in the Red Paladin's face alone spoke volumes. So agonizing as it was, he was forced to accept her words as truth.

 

With a shaky nod, he gestured for the Blade closest to him to retrieve the proffered data chip. Silence reigned in the chamber as he inserted the chip into a data tablet. A moment later a video clip began to play, Coran's voice clearly audible to the entire room as he read off a message carved in stone above pictographs of Voltron and the Lions and the war. Kolivan could feel his hands shake and he closed his eyes as in a few brief sentences, Fiorin's letter to his successors explained everything he and the others had done. Kolivan and his Blades had been tools of their efforts to end the war, mere footstones in a vast game of Kelt's War. And in the end it had all been for nothing anyway.

 

"Not for nothing, Kolivan." He jerked at the words, his eyes snapping open once more to glare at Kovirak, who was gazing up at him with understanding and sympathy. Had his thoughts shown on his face that plainly, his mask of composure shattered once and for all under too many blows?

 

"The Blades played their part. And while Zarkon may still live and the Empire may still rule for now, the efforts of Fiorin and Marmora, Torlast and Alfor, have given us something that we did not have before." She gestured to the group standing behind her. "For the first time in ten thousand cycles, Voltron stands against injustice and cruelty. They gave us a universe where Zarkon did not succeed in capturing a Lion that he was not meant to capture. Yes, that timeline ended in disaster originally, Lions destroyed and Paladins dead," She turned and looked over her shoulder at Alejandro and Kurogane, who stiffened visibly before she turned back to Kolivan, "but they gave us paladins strong enough to survive, to find their way back and use their knowledge against him once more. They would not exist now without the Blades. Kurogane and Alejandro might not be here without the Blades, who fought alongside them and taught them what they could. Because the Blades existed, and did as they were meant to do, we stand a fighting chance against the Empire. And I firmly believe the Blades will continue to play their part in helping to bring it down. We simply have to choose how."

 

There was certainty in her words, and strength. She'd obviously been thinking hard about this since the discovery of the message. And despite his fury at the deaths, his outrage at her betrayal, his hurt at being used by the one whose legacy united them, the diplomat in him could not help but recognize truth when he heard it. Her actions were a part of a greater plan that no one had known until today they'd even been part of, just as Ulaz's had been, just as his own were, and just as Marmora's had been ten thousand cycles ago.

 

He studied her for a long moment. She still knelt, still saluted, because her leader had not yet given her permission to rise. Further back, he could see the anxiety in Keith's face as he looked from his mother to his leader, waiting for him to pass judgement. The fear in his eyes, the anxiety of a cub for a parent in danger, was what decided him despite the fury and helplessness still churning in his gut. He had seen that look too many times in the eyes of kits whose parents had gone away on missions and never come back home, in mates and siblings whose loved ones were overdue to check in. He’d seen it too many times in the last decarotation. Well, he could not take back the losses those kits and families had suffered, who would hurt regardless of why those they loved had died, but he could choose not to wound another for the sake of bloody vengeance. There were enough cubs orphaned as it was. But that did not leave him totally without options for retribution.

 

"You are correct." He growled slowly, standing straighter as he surveyed the room. "The Blades of Marmora  _ will _ continue to fight. We  _ will _ continue their efforts to end the Empire once and for all, however they may contribute to that effort." He gave a small, sharp nod to a startled Allura. He could feel his Blades watching intently. The air seemed to vibrate as he found new strength, new determination, and his people responded to it as he channelled the sheer weight of his anger into it. "But you will not be part of it. Kovirak," He saw her flinch, her sharp inhalation, the moment that both Keith and Shiro started to surge forward before the older held himself back and blocked the younger with his arm, the sudden stiffness of Kurogane whose eyes betrayed that he cared more for her fate than he would admit. "Consider yourself exiled from the Blades of Marmora. You are no longer kin here."

 

Kolivan ignored her strangled gasp and turned away, refusing to acknowledge her existence any further and looking instead to Allura. "Princess. We have much to discuss. How can the Blades be of service to Voltron going forward?"

 

_______

 

"So infiltration and data collection is still available as a course of action, but you no longer have access to most of the security codes." Shiro was saying, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the large table everyone was now gathered around."

 

One of the tacticians nodded, her expression grim. "Yes. We will also need to comb through and cross-check a lot of the more recently-acquired data for accuracy. It's entirely possible that compromised agents were being fed false information."

 

"Fair enough." Matt sighed, making notes on his data tablet. "We may be better off collecting entirely new intelligence for each target we select going forward."

 

"That would be wise. Between our infiltrations, and your scouts," she nodded to Shiiar'keh politely. "We should have sufficient information to work with to develop plans of attack." She sighed, shaking her head. "I wish we had more we could offer than numbers and peering through vents to map defenses." Her tone was more than a little bitter.

 

Shiro simply shook his head, giving her a warm smile. "Your infiltration skills fill a large hole in our information gathering ability and ground tactics, and your combat skills are also more than valuable."

 

The H'ress leader nodded in agreement with that. "If you can spare the warriors, I would greatly appreciate if they could pass on their skills to some of our stronger Hunters, as well as augmenting our forces as needed. I've heard about your people’s exploits assisting Voltron. Going up against four Druids and Haggar herself with only one untrained  _ amvel nayeta _ to assist you is no mean feat."

 

Pidge tuned out of the ongoing conversation around her, turning back to her laptop. After the whole mess with Kovirak--despite now knowing the exact death toll her betrayal had led to, she couldn't really argue with Kolivan's decision when she got a look at the sheer relief on Keith's face, and she wouldn’t wish losing family on anyone--the topic had shifted rapidly. The Blades had been introduced to the group from the Long Wind, consisting of Shiiar'keh, Gra'shehn, Malrento, and two others she didn't know, one a Balmeran who seemed to be the expert on the pack ships' weapons capabilities and one who looked like the same species as Nyma who had immediately offered the ship's medical services to assist the Blades through the crisis, before moving to a large conference room to discuss what the plan would be going forward. As they were settling in, Allura had requested access to the Blades' oldest records, in the hopes of discovering information that Marmora may have left behind that would be useful to them, in light of the implications of Fiorin's message.

 

Kolivan had granted them those permissions, but there'd been doubt on his face as he warned, "Most of Marmora's personal records were sealed by her before her death. Generations of our best cryptographers have tried and failed to break her code."

 

Allura, though, had simply smiled and given a respectful nod. "I am sure they have, and I am sure they had skills beyond compare. But perhaps another green paladin can succeed where they failed."

 

Pidge had been flattered by the confidence, and maybe a little smug. Computers were her specialty, after all, and while the rest of the group settled in for a long meeting, she found herself waiting impatiently while a Blade technician rigged up a way for her laptop to talk to the local database. Green was purring excitedly in the back of her head, and Pidge could feel an undercurrent of fondness for the young Galra who had been her paladin so long ago. The Lion was as eager to know what the files might say as she was.

 

The laptop chirped an alert at her and she straightened in her seat. Access obtained. Time to get to work. Cracking her knuckles, she glanced over her notes on file designations and the access codes that would allow her into that part of the database, and started typing. Pidge grinned to herself. She'd be interrupting the meeting with some revelations of her own before she knew it.

 

Six hours later, optimism had given way to frustration. Whatever this encryption was, it was like nothing she'd ever seen before. Miles above anything the Galra Empire was using, let along Earth. She'd tried everything from simple substitution cyphers to decryption techniques she'd used in Trepan Kev. And all she was getting was gibberish. It was infuriating!

 

"I think we should stop there for the day. Give your tacticians time to look over the Icebringers' data, and we can pick it up in the morning." The scrape of chairs accompanied Shiro's comment. "We'll head back to the Castleship for the night and return early in your day-cycle tomorrow."

 

"Very well. Hopefully we shall have some more detailed plan of attack by then." Kolivan agreed.

 

Pidge's chair shifted slightly as Matt leaned on the back of it. "Any luck?" He asked quietly, peering over her shoulder at the screen.

 

"Not yet." She grumbled, reluctant to admit that the files were winning at the moment. "But I've downloaded the relevant files to local storage so I can keep working on them on the Castle."

 

Matt chuckled, shaking his head. "I suppose telling you not to stay up all night working on it is a bit pointless, huh?"

 

"Just a bit."

 

He snorted, but didn't argue. "Alright. Come on, I think we're heading back now." He pulled her chair back for her as she gathered up an armload of electronics.

 

Even with her laptop closed, she continued to turn the problem over in her head as they made their way through the corridors of the base and back to the Red Lion in the hangar, and even as they made the short flight through the narrow passageway to the Castle. The files couldn't be meant to never be accessed by anyone, or why not just delete them? They must be meant to be opened eventually. But by who? The risk of disrupting the desired path of events was gone now, so they must be accessible now somehow.

 

Thankfully, no one bothered her for the rest of the evening. They all knew how she got when she was fixated on a problem, and she appreciated the understanding. She ate and drank mechanically with one hand, typing away with the other, and relied on Green's gentle presence in her head to keep her mounting frustration at bay. She wasn't used to being thwarted by anything technological. Around the Altean equivalent of three o'clock in the morning, though, even that wasn't enough anymore. Pidge let out a frustrated shout, hurling an empty plastic cup at the wall and startling one of the garbage puffs into frightened squeaks.

 

Green nudged her mind immediately, a feeling of dappled sunlight and cool breezes through the leaves as she tried to calm her paladin. Pidge grimaced and scrubbed at her eyes. "Sorry girl. I'm okay. Really." She felt her Lion's doubt at that statement and sighed. "I'm just...frustrated, I guess. This encryption looks like it should be so simple and yet nothing I do is working."

 

A pause, and then a gentle tug. Green wanted her to take a break and come sit with her, and Pidge had to admit that might be a good idea. More coaxing nudges, almost a mental pout, and she gave a small laugh. "Okay, okay. I'm coming."

 

The hallways were dim and empty at this hour, her bare feet not making much sound as she padded down to Green's hangar with her laptop under her arm. The Lion rumbled a cheerful greeting as she flicked on the light that made Pidge grin in response. Soon she was settled down on Green's front paw, the Lion stretched out comfortably with her tail flicking idly as she watched her paladin pull up the files again. "They’re just so weird," Pidge explained as she sat back and looked at the files again, strings of numbers and symbols that had so far resisted her best efforts at divining their secrets. “I mean, at first glance these almost look like plain-text files that contain the data for another file. But I tried assembling them that way and it’s not a known file-type. None of the programs I have will recognize it.” Green rumbled consolingly and Pidge sighed, leaning her head against the side of the massive metal head. “Thanks. Well, back to the drawing board…” She pulled her headphones on and shook out sore wrists before bending over her task once more.

 

She worked in silence for a while with no success before she realized Green was nudging her mind again with obvious excitement. "Huh? You got something?" She pushed her headphones back and looked up at the glowing golden eyes.

 

An eager affirmative, then a prod at her memories. During the battle, Green had found a new scanner in her systems suddenly that hadn't been there before. It was the one she had used to pick apart the Weblum's Breath to find their way to disable it. Pidge inhaled sharply. She'd forgotten about that with everything else going on.

 

"Right. That was an aspect, wasn't it?" She grinned, looking over at her partner. "Alright, it's definitely worth a shot. Open up!"

 

Green barely waited for her to hook up the laptop to her main console before data started flashing across both screens so fast Pidge couldn't even read it. Sitting back in her chair, she made herself comfortable and watched in awe and more than a little bit of jealousy as Green used the engineering scanner to pick apart the programs and files a million times faster than Pidge could by hand.

 

Just as abruptly as it had started, the blurring scroll of data stopped. ‘Analysis complete’ flashed across the main screen. Inhaling sharply, Pidge leaned forward, her heart pounding in excitement. Had it worked?

 

The laptop displayed several new windows. In each, information written in plain Galran, with an English translation automatically generated by her computer beside it. Even the filenames had been changed. ‘Choreography’ said one. ‘Useful(?) Information’ said another. A third read ‘Zarkon is a  _ vrolmek _ and here’s why’.

 

Pidge grinned in delight. “Green, you’re amazing!”

 

Green sent back a pulse of pride and excitement mirroring Pidge’s own. Weariness and frustration vanished as she started looking over the files, eager to see what information Marmora had hidden away.

 

‘Choreography’ seemed at first glance to be a scheduler of some kind, a list of things to do and people to talk to. But a little further down she encountered snatches of dialogue written in. Notations like ‘no matter how much it hurts,  _ do not  _ fire on the warship in the first twenty ticks’. With a sickening jolt she realized what this was. This was the list of everything Marmora had to do or not do in order to craft the future she needed. Her choreography in the plan. The file was huge. Fiorin hadn’t been exaggerating when he described her as being fate’s puppet.

 

Putting that file aside, Pidge continued to sort through the files. ‘Useful(?) Information’ looked promising, but it was a big file so she reluctantly put it aside for later. Near the bottom of the stack of windows, a file header caught her eye and she froze.

 

‘For Pidge’, it read.

 

In that moment, she abruptly understood exactly why the others were so rattled by the revelation in the cave. Everything that had happened to all of them had gone from a fluke, chance, bad luck, to something that someone had done  _ to _ them. Ten thousand years ago, the previous paladins had known exactly who they were and chosen them all for this, chosen them to endure everything they had. Fiorin had never called any of them by name in his message, and somehow that meant it never quite sank in for her. But Marmora knew exactly who she was.

 

Her hands shook as she selected the file, bringing it to the forefront and opening it wide enough to read.

 

_ Pidge _ ,

 

_ I know that Fiorin is leaving a message to all of you, but I wanted to leave one for you personally. I know we'll never meet, but we still have a connection through Green and through this awful, awful war. _

 

_ I just wanted to tell you how sorry I am. _

 

_ We took so much from you. Your family. Your childhood. Your freedom. I know you're just fifteen when you first reach Arus. Just a kid, by your standards and mine. I know how desperately you want to find your father and brother. I wish I knew whether you will. _

 

_ Fiorin says you're like Ilexam, if Ilexam was as much of a wild card as I am. I like that. It means Green will be able to have a little bit of us in you. Please take good care of her for me. I know she hates being alone. _

 

_ I don't know when you'll find these files, or how long it will take you to access them--I designed them to only be translated by Green's engineering scanner, so until you have the Learning aspect, you won't be able to read them. But now that you have, I've enclosed everything I could think of that might help if you're still fighting. The other files contain information about Zarkon, Acalli, and the Lions. There are also ones about those they killed. If it's not asking too much, please remember them for me. It's the only memorial they have. _

 

_ I'm so sorry things turned out this way. I'd like to think that in another life we could have been friends. _

 

_ Stay safe and good luck, Pidge. _

_ Marmora _

 

Pidge stared at the screen for a long moment after reaching the end of the message. Short and to the point. Yeah, that sounded a lot like the Marmora Allura and Coran had described. Her eyes lingered on the last line. Reading this, Marmora's personality showed through, and she couldn't help agreeing with that thought. Too bad it could never happen.

 

Slowly, she say back in her chair, glancing up at the main screen. "Yeah. I'm sorry too, Marmora." She said softly. Heaving a sigh, she closed her laptop and disconnected it from the main console. "I think I'll go over the rest of this in the morning. I should probably get some sleep, right Green?" The lion rumbled an agreement, but Pidge could feel the note of sadness in their bond. She patted the console sympathetically. "You know I'm never more than a thought away. You're not alone anymore."

 

The tinge of sadness eased a little, Green's presence curling up comfortably in the back of her mind as she headed down the ramp with her laptop in hand. Tomorrow was going to be another hectic day. For now, though, she'd found the knowledge she was after, and more.


	53. Chapter 53

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No warnings for this chapter.
> 
> Here we go, guys, the next installment of TLA! Apparently binge-writing the entire chapter over the weekend is just how I roll now. Enjoy!

Despite the late hour, Shiro quickly discovered that no one was even pretending to sleep as he did his rounds to check on them before bed.

 

Pidge's door opened at his touch, and he poked his head around the edge. He was not the least bit surprised to find her wide awake and hard at work, fingers flying over her laptop keyboard at a furious pace, her face set in an expression of intense concentration as she tried to decode the files left behind by her predecessor at the Blade of Marmora headquarters. Not wanting to disturb her, he simply chuckled and withdrew. There was no point even trying to get her to go to bed, not when she was so focused on a project. Instead he settled for nudging the quiet presence of the Black Lion in the back of his mind.

_ Tell Green to make sure she sleeps at some point, okay? _

 

Black's response was a ripple of amusement and an impression of doubt that even Green could convince her stubborn paladin to rest when she didn't feel like it. Shiro rolled his eyes, letting the Lion feel his own amused agreement.  _ I know, but tell her to try anyway. _

 

A warm feeling of assent flowed through his head as he left Pidge's room behind and continued down the hallway. Some of the bedroom doors stood slightly ajar, an indicator left for him that their occupants were elsewhere, and he couldn't help but give a grateful smile as he brushed a metal palm lightly over the surface of Lance's door. Perceptive kid. Shiro was pretty sure he was the one who'd noticed the nightly check-ins and come up with the system to make it easier for him. It let him bypass the other paladins' rooms and head straight for the lounge instead.

 

Sure enough, Lance's voice was audible as he approached, although too muffled to make out the words, and Hunk's quiet reply. Shiro rapped lightly at the doorframe to announce his presence as he arrived. "Hey guys. You doing okay?" He asked, leaning against the frame.

 

The pair was sitting on the floor, leaning against the foot of one of the couches amidst a mess of blankets. Across the room, a movie was playing on the screen Hunk and Coran had set up, something animated that Shiro didn't recognize, although neither seemed to be paying much attention to it. Surprisingly, they seemed to be the only ones in the room.

 

Lance looked up and started to nod, then seemed to think better of it and shrugged with a weak smile. "Yeah. Just talking. It's been a heck of a day, y'know?"

 

"Yeah. Tell me about it." Shiro admitted ruefully. That was an understatement if he'd ever heard one. He stepped away from the frame and into the room proper, picking his way carefully around the chaos of blankets and personal items to sit on the couch beside them. "I've seen a lot of weird things since I've been out in space, but today feels downright surreal." He hesitated. He didn't want to burden these kids any further with his own thoughts on this whole mess, so he chose his next words carefully. "Like one of those dreams that's not quite a nightmare but it's definitely uncomfortable."

 

Hunk groaned and nodded. "Exactly. That whole message and everything, it's just really..." He waved a hand helplessly. "I dunno. Knowing that we were chosen for this, instead of just stumbling into it? It's upsetting, because they knew they were sending kids off to be soldiers, but at the same time I get them not really having a choice. And it's not like we knew, so I guess in a way it was still our choice even if they knew what we would pick..." He glanced sideways at Lance, who was nodding along in agreement.

 

Shiro nodded as well, giving him a sympathetic smile. "Right. After being with the Galra for a year, after everything I saw, I couldn't have chosen not to try to help other people given the chance." He sighed, glancing down at the other two. God, they were both so young. The last week and a bit had really driven that home, watching them interact with their parents and siblings and generally let the stress fall away from them for just a little while. The happiness hadn't lasted, of course, ending with painful goodbyes as they let their burdens settle back onto their shoulders again, but it had been such a relief to see them still able to let go like that. To see that this war hadn't broken them yet. "I'm proud of you, you know."

 

"Hm? What for?" Lance tipped his head back to give him a confused look at the unexpected comment.

 

How to put it into words? "You guys...you're young. You have your whole lives ahead of you. And you two especially had a lot waiting for you back on Earth. I wouldn't have blamed you for an instant if you'd refused to be part of this. But you didn't, not as soon as you got a look at what being under the Empire's rule really meant. So you stayed, and you fought. But at the same time, you never lost sight of who you were, or what you believe in." He gave them a soft smile. "You still have those same kind, open hearts that let you take a new person into your family in an instant, that makes you see the value in every single life, even those of the people we're fighting against." His hand dropped to Hunk's shoulder and gave it an understanding squeeze. He'd known from the beginning how much the yellow paladin hated killing, hated the sheer quantity of death that was inescapable in a war. "That's a good thing. It takes a lot of strength to do what we do knowing that the other soldier is a person too. Don't lose that, okay?" Releasing his grip, he went to push himself back to his feet.

 

"You haven't lost that either, you know."

 

Shiro faltered, his head snapping back down to meet Lance's intense blue gaze. "...pardon?"

 

"You haven't lost it either." Lance repeated firmly, not breaking eye contact. In his peripheral vision, Shiro could see Hunk looking at him just as intently, his expression solemn. "Just because you had to learn to put it aside in the middle of a fight in order to survive doesn't mean you're not thinking about it afterward. That it doesn't still hurt you."

 

Perceptive. Too perceptive. He swallowed hard, unable to form words, and leaned into Black's soothing coolness in an attempt to steady himself at being unexpectedly confronted on one of the memories he hated the most.

 

Hunk's hand came to rest on his knee and he jumped at the unexpected contact. "Sorry. Lance is right, though, Shiro. You're not a bad guy just because fighting and killing is easier for you than it is for us. Especially not when you're doing it to protect people. And that's what you're doing, you know. Protecting the people hurt by the Galra, protecting us." Hunk paused for a moment, a shadow of distress flicking across his face for a moment. "Even when you're protecting yourself, that's protecting others by extension. Because how many lives have you saved as Black Paladin? How many more will you keep saving?" He took a deep breath and offered a grin that was tinged with sadness. "It's the same logic I used to do what I needed to back at Trepan Kev. Pidge is like a sister to me, but even more than that, she's the Green Paladin. Without her we're less effective, and that means more lives lost. And the same goes for you. Your life is important, Shiro. But protecting it doesn't mean you've lost your humanity."

 

"I-I..." Shiro was completely thrown. How did he respond to that? That quiet, utterly confident reassurance that struck right to the core of the fears and doubts left in the holes the arena had torn in his soul?

 

Especially now, the same day he'd learned that he'd gone from being a weapon in the hands of Haggar to being one in the hands of paladins ten thousand years dead. These two at least had been innocent before all this started. Shiro had been shaped, piece by piece, by the arena, by the Druids, by the Lions themselves, into a killing machine ready and willing to tear the heart out of the Empire. It was what he was meant for. Hunk was Bone, the steel-strong core that supported the team in a dozen different ways, and Lance was Heart, the vibrant center that motivated and loved. But Shiro was Mind, the leader, the decision maker, telling them all where and how to kill in order to achieve their goals. How could they possibly say that the things he'd told them, the assurance of the goodness of their hearts and the courage of their mercy, applied to him as well?

 

Something of his doubt must have shown in his face, because Lance scowled and twisted, turning to sit on his knees so he was facing Shiro properly. "Shiro. Listen. This is exactly what we were talking about before you came in, and Hunk made some really good points I think you should hear, okay?" He gave his friend a respectful nod before looking back up at him.

 

He waited until Shiro had managed a shaky nod before continuing, his entire being seemingly focused on Shiro. "Okay. It's like this, basically. Fate and chaos theory and all that bullshit?  _ It doesn't matter _ . Regardless of how and why we ended up in space, we did. Knowing doesn't change that. And it doesn't invalidate our choices because back then?  _ We didn't know _ . We were choosing for ourselves, for us and for what we believed in, what we would do. I chose to stay because I could protect people who couldn't help themselves, and because you guys needed me to. Hunk stayed because he saw he could make a difference. And you?" His face unexpectedly split into a knowing smile, catching Shiro off-guard once more. "You stayed so you could keep other people from going through what you did. So no one else would have to make the choices you did to survive. Right?"

 

Shiro could only give a mute nod.

 

"And  _ that's _ why you choose to fight, that's why you choose to kill. To protect. Not because you're a bad person, or a puppet, or a weapon in someone's hands." Lance's smile twisted wryly as he flexed his right hand, the back of it marred now with a patch of fresh shiny scar tissue that made Shiro's gut twist. "Because you're none of those things. When you're given the choice as to whether to step into the fight, you do it for reasons of love, and nothing else at all."

 

Lance started to settle back onto his heels, leaving Shiro reeling, then abruptly straightened again, his face lighting up in response to some internal revelation. "In fact, I can prove it!"

 

"You...what?" Shiro blinked, too overwhelmed by Lance's deft stripping away of layer after layer of guilt to follow whatever leap of logic he'd made this time. "How?"

 

Lance beamed, spreading his hands in a broad gesture, almost a bow. "Your arm."

 

Beside him, Hunk snapped upright so fast he dropped the blanket that had been around his shoulders. "Oh my god. You're right!"

 

"I'm not following." Shiro mumbled, looking from one to the other weakly. He'd come in here to reassure  _ them _ , not to have them turn it around and go all...team leg on him.

 

"It's simple. You first used that aspect in the arena, right?" Hunk was grinning now as he leaned on the cushion beside him. "Even Fiorin's message said that Blue bound our set to the Lions at a specific time to give you access to your aspects."

 

"Right..."

 

"Well, Pidge and I were working on it in our downtime, and we're  _ pretty _ sure we've worked out a pattern in the aspects and how they show up for Paladins. Natural element and combative characteristic both seem to give upgrades to individual lions, although the combative ones seem to be useable in the Voltron form as well." He ticked off on his fingers. "We  _ think _ maybe the physical analogues are upgrades to the Voltron form, but it's hard to be sure when we've only seen the Heart aspect in action for that category."

 

Shiro's left hand slowly went to wrap around his right wrist. Hunk followed the motion and nodded. "And the psychological traits give special abilities to the paladins themselves, yeah. Pidge's healing touch, my BLIP-sense, the teleportation Kurogane mentioned..." He faltered, obviously unwilling to mention the mind control, then hastily hurried on, "and you've got some kind of quintessence manipulation. And what's the emotional and mental characteristics for Black? Will, and love."

 

"But it was the arena..." Shiro's voice sounded weak to his own ears in the face of their confidence. How could anything he'd done in that hellhole have been born out of love?

 

Lance smiled softly. "And what's the very first thing you did when you got there?" He poked Shiro's left knee in an obviously meaningful gesture.

 

Following the movement, Shiro's eyes widened in shock. Of course. Matt. As soon as he realized what the arena was, what was expected of them, he'd done the only thing he could possibly do. Injuring Matt in an attempt to keep him from being sent out to fight had been a desperate gamble, one that could very easily have killed him in a hundred different ways. But a slim chance at life was better than certain death, and so he'd sliced Matt's leg and taken on Myzax in his place, determined to win so that no one else, none of the other scared prisoners he'd been unable to protect, would have to die at that giant's hands. And he had.

 

And even afterwards, though he'd never discussed it with anyone, too ashamed of the blood on his hands to delve into the shadows the arena had left inside him. In the aftermath of each battle, he had reminded himself that as long as he was alive, there was a chance that he might someday escape, be able to break free and search for Matt and Sam and bring them safely home. That and his promise to return to Keith were the only things that could touch the grief and guilt that threatened to overwhelm him after each fight, each kill, each helpless life ended at his hands. The only things that could keep him from letting himself wither away in his cell or simply drop his blade and let his opponent put an end to his reign when he stepped out onto the sand. His love for Keith and Matt and Sam. And his determination to keep his promises to them all, to keep them all safe.

 

He remembered the day the arm had first glowed. Freshly grafted to his flesh, painful and heavy and cumbersome against an opponent too fast and too vicious for his battered body to take. He'd been sure he would die there, but the thought kept him on his feet.  _ Win. Survive. Find them. Keep them safe. _

 

And a lion had roared in the back of his mind and ultraviolet heat had torn his enemy apart.

 

He dragged himself from the memory to find himself breathing raggedly into his palm, eyes wide and unseeing between splayed fingers. Hunk's voice was an anxious buzz in his ear. "Come on, buddy, breathe with me, you can do it. In for four, out for four..." as he clutched Shiro's other trembling hand. Another soft touch on his back, rubbing soothing circles, seemed to be Lance, the two paladins sitting beside him on the couch now. When had that happened?

 

Later. He forced himself to try to match Hunk's breathing, the air stuttering in his lungs as he tried to suck it in. It was sharp and jagged and short but Hunk praised him anyway. "That's it, keep going. You got this." Another attempt, slightly better, and a few more tries let his muscles slowly unlock and his hand fall from his face.

 

"I-I'm okay. I'm okay. Really." He forced out, the words barely reaching his own ears. "I'm fine. Just memories."

 

"I figured." The teen sounded pained as he slowly straightened and put an arm around Shiro's waist. "Sorry. I shouldn't have brought that up."

 

"No." The word came out with unexpected vehemence, startling him as well as the other two, and he hastily modulated his tone. "No. It's fine. I...I think I needed to hear that, actually. Thank you." The smile he offered up was thin and shaky, but genuine, and Lance and Hunk cautiously returned it. Belatedly he realized Black was purring comfortingly in the back of his head as well. "You're right. More right than you know."

 

Hunk didn't press him to explain, but some of the tension dropped from his shoulders and his smile became easier. "Glad to hear it. You okay now? Need some water or anything? We have lots." He waved a hand toward a pile of snacks and water packs on the floor. Obviously they'd been settled in for a long discussion before Shiro had come in and distracted them.

 

Ruefully Shiro shook his head. "No, thank you. I need to finish my rounds." Giving the other two a grateful smile, he pushed himself to his feet. "Make sure you guys get some sleep, alright? We've got another long day tomorrow."

 

Lance snorted but didn't argue. "Sure thing, asere. Make sure you take your own advice, though." His lips quirked knowingly as he slid off the couch and back down to the floor and grabbed a water pack for himself.

 

"I'll do my best." Shiro chuckled back. Tossing off a playful salute, he headed back out into the hall. As he walked, he idly flexed the fingers of his prosthetic hand. The constant weight of guilt in his chest felt oddly lighter now. But then, Lance and Hunk had that effect. There was a reason their aspects were the ones that made up a person's inner core, support and heart all in one.

 

He let that lightness carry him as he continued on through the Castle, checking on those now resident. Colleen was in her quarters, reading a book on Altean history that Pidge's programs had translated into English for her, but there was a distance to her gaze that told him there were other things on her mind and he let her be. Ryou was unpacking, having apparently slipped several boxes of his own possessions aboard Black while loading up the ones full of Shiro's things that he'd brought up from the basement. When he saw Shiro he returned a warm smile with one of his own and stepped over to give him a wordless hug that held on for just a little too long to convince him that Ryou wasn't also deep in thought about the day's events. It was reassuring to know the two of them could still communicate without words as he squeezed his brother's shoulder in a silent promise to be there if he wanted to talk, and felt Ryou's reassuring pat in return.

 

When he reached Allura's quarters, he didn't even need to open the door to hear her voice, pitched in distress and speaking rapidly in Altean that didn't translate to his ears. His inner peace rapidly changed to concern as he moved to knock, but the motion was cut off as he heard Coran's quieter response. Shiro immediately stepped back, his hands falling to his sides. This wasn't something he should intrude on. Where would he even begin in offering comfort to two people who had been thrown unprepared into a bloody future by someone they had loved and trusted? He couldn't even imagine how that must feel. 

 

He quickly moved on. Deactivated translator or not, he had no right to eavesdrop on their pain. In the morning, though, he would talk to them and offer whatever support he could, even if it was just a shoulder to lean on or an assurance that they were not alone despite all that had changed elsewhere in the universe. They were both part of their little makeshift family.

 

Distracted by his thoughts, he found his feet had carried him to the observation room of the training deck. That was fine, Keith was his next stop anyways. But as he leaned on the main console to look out the wide windows at the floor below, he was surprised to find not Keith but Kovirak.

 

The Galra warrior was systematically taking apart droid after droid bare-handed, her heavy breathing and the sheer quantity of debris from defeated opponents scattered across the floor a testament to how long she'd been here. Her limbs shook, betraying growing exhaustion to his experienced eye, but she never faltered. Her claws raked across one gladiator's neck in a fraction of a second as she spun on one foot to plant the other squarely in the chest of the other that was coming up behind her. A third dropped from the ceiling and she sprang toward it, sweeping its legs out from under it and planting a fist in the side of its head before it could even find its footing. Throughout it all, her expression was one of grim determination, unflinchingly calm, the same expression she'd been wearing when the rest of them had rejoined her at the Red Lion when they left the Blade Headquarters earlier that evening.

 

The movements of the gladiators was oddly familiar, and it took Shiro a moment to figure out why. They were moving and fighting like Empire soldiers. All at once, he understood. With her loyalties no longer divided now that she'd been formally exiled from the Blades, Kovirak had only one aim: protecting her son. And if she had to cut a swathe of destruction through the very heart of the Empire, he had absolutely no doubt she would do just that. He winced as she punched another gladiator hard enough that the metal faceplate crumpled. God help the soldier that tried to hurt Keith while she was around.

 

He nodded to himself in satisfaction and turned away from the window just as the door whirred open. Alejandro stepped through, then stopped short at the sight of him, Kurogane nearly bumping into him from behind. "Oh, sorry. Didn't realize anyone was up here."

 

"No, it's fine. I was just leaving." Shiro studied the pair for a moment. The strain of the day was obvious on both their faces, and he couldn't blame them. For them more than anyone else, the revelations of that morning had been a cruel blow. To know that the actions of their predecessors had led directly to the deaths of their friends and family and the loss of everything they cared about, not to mention the mystery of the chaos aspect's use, had left them both quiet and withdrawn. The closure of Kovirak's exile for her actions had only seemed to make things worse. The two of them hadn't even attempted to participate in the discussion on the Blade base, Kurogane instead curling in on himself and the two speaking quietly in hushed murmurs to each other, and disappearing to their quarters as soon as they all returned to the Castleship. "Are you two doing alright?" Shiro asked softly. "I know today's been pretty terrible for you two in particular."

 

Alejandro grimaced, shaking his head. The shadows around his eyes seemed even deeper than ever. "Been better, honestly." Rather than elaborate, he dropped into a chair by the console and tapped a few keys. The panel seemed to vanish, replaced by a holographic projection of the room below that offered them a clear view of Kovirak's systematic rampage against the gladiator robots. "She's still at it, huh?"

 

Nodding, Shiro folded his arms and leaned against the invisible edge of the console. "Do you know how long she's been in there?" He asked curiously.

 

"Kurogane wanted to punch something when we got back from the base, but she beat him here." Alejandro explained, looking over at his partner, who simply scowled and folded his arms tighter across his chest. "She's been in here the whole time."

 

"I see..." The tension in the way Kurogane was carrying himself was too painfully familiar, and Shiro's reaction was instinctive, in motion before he even thought about it. He crossed the room slowly, giving the other plenty of time to see what he was doing and avoid him if he chose. Kurogane didn't move away though, and when Shiro reached him he did what he'd done for Keith so many times before: pulled him into a bone-crushing hug. Sure enough, Kurogane was tense as a coiled spring under his arms, the calm anger a deceptive mask to the strain and confusion underneath.

 

He could feel Alejandro's eyes on him but ignored the gaze, focusing instead on the unevenness of Kurogane's breathing, the way he seemed to curl in on himself without moving, the way he finally, finally turned one of the hands pinned between them to grab Shiro's shirt instead of digging his nails into his arms. They stayed that way for several long moments before Kurogane mumbled a quiet "I'm okay" and stepped back. Shiro let him go, pretending not to notice the hand that scrubbed roughly across dark eyes as the other looked away.

 

"Oh  _ xetr'v's  _ sake, come here." Alejandro murmured, lurching back to his feet and pulling his partner into his own arms instead, guiding him back over to the chair and dropping back down with Kurogane in his lap. Shiro couldn't help but be a little awed at the way Kurogane rested pliant and trusting against his chest as Alejandro folded protective arms around him and rested his chin on top of the dark hair. "Are you ever going to stop being so stubborn about admitting when you need this?"

 

"Probably not." Kurogane muttered, closing his eyes and tipping his head against the other's throat. "At least not until you stop using fussing over me as an excuse not to deal with your own issues."

 

Alejandro huffed and rolled his eyes, but the whole thing had the feel of a frequently-rehearsed argument that had become a way of reassuring each other that they were not alone. Certainly there was nothing more than fondness and quiet concern in either of their tones, and Shiro felt as though he was intruding on a private moment. He turned and started to head toward the door. "I'll leave you two be."

 

"Hang on a sec, Shiro." Alejandro's voice stopped him and he glanced back. The former blue paladin's gaze was on Kovirak down below as she slid on her knees past another gladiator and ripped open its side in passing. When he turned back to face Shiro his expression was deeply serious. "I wanted to get your opinion on something." In his arms, Kurogane lifted his head a bit, raising an eyebrow at his partner.

 

Shiro blinked and nodded, moving back over beside the duo again. "Of course. What's up?"

 

"Kovirak."

 

The single word held a wealth of weight. So did the way Kurogane stiffened in Alejandro's arms, the way Alejandro's posture shifted subtly from comforting to protective, ready to defend the man he loved. He didn't elaborate. He didn't need to.

 

Shiro gave a small nod and looked away, considering the answer to that question as he tried to suppress the warmth in his chest at the simple fact that the two of them trusted his opinion after so many years apart and a host of experiences this version of him had never shared with them. He'd been meaning to seek Kurogane out and talk to him about this anyway.

 

"I think..." He said slowly, choosing his words with care, "she really does love you." He glanced back over at Kurogane. "Both of you. She spends every moment she can with Keith, and it's easy to see she's trying to learn what he needs from her, what his boundaries are, as much of who he is as he's willing to share." Already he'd seen her watching the way Keith interacted with the others, and the lines they didn't cross were the ones she approached most cautiously. "She respects the fact that you don't want her around. But maybe you haven't noticed, but whenever you're in the room, she watches you at least as much as she watches Keith. I think she's trying to learn about you, too, as much as she can without crossing the boundary you've set."

 

His gaze softened. Kurogane's face was turned away from him, but the tension in his body betrayed his attention. "I know you're angry at her. You had more time to bond with the Blades than we've had. More reason to. The loss hit you harder. Right?"

 

"They were family to me." The rough whisper was nonetheless clearly audible in the quiet room. Down below, Kovirak's claws ripped a hole through a gladiator's chest from behind.

 

Shiro felt a lump in his throat and nodded. Family. The most painful subject for both Keith and Kurogane. "I know. And I'm so sorry for your loss. All your losses. But I've thought about this a bit, and I've realized--that was something that  _ she didn't know _ ." Alejandro straightened, his breath catching in his throat.  Shiro tossed him a strained smile and a firm nod. They were both allies in this. Kurogane deserved to experience his mother's love, and the only one standing in the way of that was himself. 

 

"She didn't know." Shiro repeated. "As far as she knew she was only sacrificing  _ her _ brothers and  _ her _ sisters for the sake of her only child. She couldn't have known you knew them. As far as she knew you were still on Earth, safe in your father's arms. And to her, that trade was worth it, because of how much she loves you." He could see Kurogane's hand tightening on the fabric of Alejandro's shirt, hear his breath hitching, and pressed on. "She loves you enough to sacrifice the rest of her family. Everything the blade has worked for. And the universe itself. For you."

 

Kurogane's breath shuddered and he pressed his face against Alejandro's chest, a thin brown hand cupping the back of his head comfortingly as his partner held him closer. "Stop." He choked out. "She can't."

 

The agonized sorrow on Alejandro's face mirrored the way those words cut deep into Shiro's heart. Kurogane had changed so much from Keith as he was now...and yet some things hadn't changed at all. He stepped forward instantly, his hands joining Alejandro's, one on a shoulder, the other around a thin waist. "She does, Kurogane. I know it's hard to believe. But take it from someone who has seen a mother's love in so many forms. In my own, in Ryou's, in Colleen Holt, in Rosa McClain-Martinez, and in La'ei and Fetuilelagi Garrett. She loves you. And like any good mother, she would tear the universe apart to protect her child. To protect Keith, and to protect you."

 

He nodded towards the windows, where Kovirak's ceaseless rampage against the gladiator robots had finally come to an end. A message blinked on the far wall, informing them all that the training session had halted automatically until the Castle's automated manufacturing systems could replenish the supply of combat droids. She had torn through the ship's entire supply faster than it could keep up and now stood panting amidst the wreckage, her fur and hair slick and dark with sweat as she looked for her next opponent. "And unless I miss my guess, she intends to do just that."

 

Silence reigned in the observation deck. Below them, Kovirak kicked aside the head of a decapitated droid and strode off toward the showers. Only when she was gone from sight did Kurogane speak. "...Okay. I'll think about it."

 

Shiro felt the tension flow from his shoulders and exchanged a weary smile with Alejandro over the top of Kurogane's head. "Fair enough. And remember that I'm here anytime you want to talk, okay?" He squeezed the other's shoulder gently. "We all are. You're family. We'll listen."

 

Kurogane nodded. Then he turned away again, pressing back against his partner's chest. Shiro stepped back and gave them space. They may still trust him, respect his advice, but things were not the same between him and them as they would have been years in the time travellers' past. They had lost him, and they had relied on each other instead. Alejandro's comfort was stronger than his own now.

 

He turned and slipped out of the room.


	54. Chapter 54

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: horror elements in the Lotor POV at the end. Nothing gory, just creepy.
> 
> For those who haven't seen it yet, I have a new oneshot up, The Stardust on His Skin. It's a Shiro-centric soulmate AU that is...not your typical soulmate AU. 
> 
> Also, on the 9th, everyone should keep an eye out for a new story from squirenonny that I and Confused-Bird (Go read their Next Generation series!) collab'd on. I'm had a ton of fun working on it and I'm super excited for when it goes up!
> 
> Finally, those of you who are writers should go look up @poly-rainbow-bang on tumblr. It's an upcoming back for poly ships involving any combination of Allura, Keith, Lance, Hunk, and Pidge. Spread the word!

Allura studied her face in the image on the screen, frowned, and made a minute adjustment to the shapeshift. She may not have had as much practice with full-form shifts as she would like, but the small transformations that concealed sleepless nights and reddened eyes came easily. Stars knew she’d used them often enough over the last cycle in her efforts to keep up appearances in front of the paladins. It was a habit she intended to try to break, but not today.

 

“You look fine, Allura.” Coran reassured her. His smile was strained, the effects of a difficult day and emotional night more visible to her familiar eye, but he carried himself as easily as ever, an old hand at drawing attention away from that which he didn’t want noticed by others. “If you keep fussing, you’ll overcorrect and draw as much attention as a Prvall’s whipneck in a field full of taberlocks.”

 

Huffing, she hastily shut down the screen. “I know that. I just want to make sure I maintain the Blades’ confidence in Voltron. The last thing they need is another blow to their morale.” Remembering the strained and defeated air of many of the Blades they’d seen at the headquarters, she shuddered. The organization was struggling to regain its footing and find new purpose, and she was determined to assist.

 

"That's fair enough, I suppose. Although give them the credit they're due. The Blades of Marmora are strong. Give them time to recover from this shock and I have no doubt they'll bounce back and give the Empire back what they got ten times over." Coran swung a fist for emphasis, and Allura couldn't help but laugh, some of her tension easing away. Thank the stars for her Papa. He always knew just what to say.   
  
"Of course. You're quite right about that, Coran." She chuckled, resting a hand on his arm in a silent gesture of gratitude. "As always."   
  
Coran grinned back, twirling his moustache at her playfully. "That's what I'm here for, Princess." He dipped into a dramatic, sweeping bow that brought another round of giggles to her lips, exactly as he'd intended judging by the fond look in his eye when he straightened up again.   
  
A knock at the door of the bridge attracted both of their attentions, and Allura frowned uncertainly. One of the new Humans who'd joined them at Earth? None of their usual team would seek permission to come in here. "Enter," she called, carefully smoothing the front of her dress.   
  
To her surprise, it wasn’t one of the Humans, but Kovirak. The Galra bowed, pressing a fist to her chest in a respectful salute. "Princess. I was wondering if I might have a moment of your time to speak to you."   
  
"Of course." Allura exchanged an uncertain glance with Coran over Kovirak's bowed head. The former Blade had been silent since yesterday, when Kolivan had declared her exiled for the betrayal that had cost the lives of so many of their fellow warriors, and Allura couldn't begin to guess what was going through her head. She straightened and turned to face Kovirak fully. "What did you wish to discuss?"   
  
Kovirak straightened, although the saluting fist did not move. Her ears flicked back slightly in nervous hesitation, but when she spoke her voice was steady. "I would like to request your permission to remain aboard the Castle of Lions. I will gladly assist however I can, either with the war effort or with the general maintenance of the ship."   
  
It took all Allura's practice at diplomacy and composure not to let her bewilderment at the request show. Had they done something to make the Galra warrior feel as though she would be expected to leave? Hastily casting her mind back to the initial revelations about Kovirak's identity, Allura recalled that her place here had been only tentative, until she could be brought to face Kolivan's judgement. Her future after that point had not been discussed, depending as it did on what reparation the Blade Leader demanded.   
  
Realizing that the silence following that request had gone on too long, and that the long pointed ears were slowly edging further and further back with each passing tick, she quickly cleared her throat. "Of course. I understand you made a promise to our Red Paladin to remain by his side, did you not? You have an obligation to remain here." She heard Coran's muffled chuckle as Kovirak's ears sprang upwards in obvious relief. She didn't remember the warrior letting her emotions show like that before, but then again, yesterday had been trying for her as well. It would take all of them time to regain composure. "As for assisting, we can always use more hands in a variety of areas. Coran will put you on the Castle's chore rotation, and I expect we'll be able to make use of your experience with stealth and combat as well." They couldn't afford to sideline an experienced warrior simply because her loyalties were to a single paladin first and to the war effort second. They’d simply have to be careful of what missions she was assigned, so such a betrayal could not happen again.   
  
Kovirak nodded fervently, bowing again. "Yes, Princess. Thank you, Princess." Her relief was evident in her tone, and in the way her shoulders seemed to slacken under the tunic she wore. "Just call on me at any time."   
  
Allura smiled, giving her a reassuring nod. "We will, I assure you. For now, though, I believe it's almost breakfast time if you'd like to join us."   
  
"Yes, thank you." Kovirak fell in beside them as they left the bridge, heading for the dining room. As they walked, though, her ears flicked back again slightly. "Princess...I did have one other question. Why didn't you tell Kolivan that Keith was my son?"   
  
Glancing sideways at the Galra, Allura lifted one shoulder in a slight shrug. "At the time I sent the initial message, it wasn't relevant. You obviously hadn't known that your son was the Red Paladin of Voltron, and so it played no part in the decisions you made."   
  
"...That's true enough, I suppose." Kovirak murmured softly. "And no, I certainly didn't know. I left him behind in an effort to keep him safe from this war." A hint of bitterness crept into her tone. "As far as I'd been able to find, there was nothing to interest the Empire in that sector. It would have been well down the list for expansion, untouched for decacycles. I thought my son would live his life in peace. And instead he's on the front lines of the war."   
  
"I know how you feel, believe me." Allura's tone matched Kovirak's as her mind wandered once more to the message left by the young Altean Paladin she had once known. A sweet, earnest young man, she never would have believed him capable of the sacrifices that the message implied. But the impossible chain of coincidences that had brought them to where they were now bore out the truth of his actions--and her father’s.

 

Kovirak gave a slow nod. “Yes, you would, wouldn’t you. All those cub’s stories about how the last King of Altea hid his daughter away to wait for the day Voltron would return and wake her to lead the Altean people once more--who would have thought there was that much truth in them?” she chuckled.

 

Allura stumbled and nearly fell as her head whipped around to stare at Kovirak. “Cub’s stories?” She gaped. “About  _ us?” _

 

One ear quivered in amusement as Kovirak looked over at her. “Oh yes. Quite a few, about you and King Alfor and the Lions and even Advisor Coran. Although I have to admit, those ones always seemed a bit outlandish to me before I actually met you both.” She bared her teeth in a Human-style grin at Coran, who couldn’t seem to decide between looking flattered or offended. 

 

“That doesn’t surprise me, somehow.” Allura chuckled, regaining her footing and resuming their walk. She wasn’t sure why she was so surprised at the idea of old legends about Voltron and those connected to it. The great defender her father had built had been known all across the universe. Of course it would be remembered, even if the tales had been distorted with the retelling. “He  _ is _ a bit of a whopper himself sometimes, nevermind the ones that come out of his mouth.”

 

Coran squawked, looking insulted, and Kovirak burst out laughing. “So I see. Those cub’s tales are as old as Marmora, and I wouldn’t be surprised if she started half of them herself.”

 

“That does sound like her, the ungrateful whelp.” Coran muttered, crossing his arms with a huff.

 

Allura’s own laughter announced their entrance into the dining room, attracting the attention of the earlier risers, Shiro, Matt, Keith, and Ryou. Shiro looked up and smiled, relief evident in his eyes. “Good morning. Sounds like you three are in a good mood today.”

 

Nodding, she seated herself daintily in the chair Coran pulled out for her. “Good morning. Kovirak was just informing me that Coran and I, as well as the Lions, are the subject of children’s stories that have been passed down amongst the Blades across the centacycles.” She giggled again. “All those ancestors of mine I used to hear about in stories and now I’m one of them.”

 

“Not just the Blades.” Matt chuckled, leaning his elbows on the table and resting his chin in his palm. “I’ve picked up quite a few helping out with the kids on the Boiling Rock and the Long Wind. Not to mention the children’s books they gave me to help me learn to read Galran and Altean.” He gave a self-deprecating snort and grinned at Kovirak. “We’ll have to do a comparison, and trade the ones we haven’t heard before.”

 

“Please!” Ryou put in, looking delighted. “Legends and stories are one of the best insights into a culture there are. I bet there’d be variations even from one pack to another, let alone to the versions down on Sh’raa H’ressnol,” he stumbled over the H’ress name but kept going, “or the Marmoran--ow! Takashi!” He rubbed his arm and pouted at his brother, who had reached behind Matt to elbow him. “What was that for?”

 

“They can’t tell us about the stories if you don’t stop talking.” Shiro grinned, rolling his eyes at Ryou’s put-out expression. He waved a hand toward Kovirak to go ahead.

 

Giving the black paladin an appreciative nod, Kovirak stirred her food goo thoughtfully. “What ones would you like to start with? There’s several variations on the sleeping Princess stories I mentioned to Allura, ones about Coran’s antics, and quite a few about the Lions’ heroics. Also a few about the paladins playing a trick on Zarkon that, now that I think about it, may be about the scheme they concocted that brought us to the Lions.”

 

Matt hummed for a moment, then nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I think I’ve heard that one. And that interpretation makes sense. I’ll write it down for you later, Ryou.” he added to the older man who was all but bouncing in his seat beside him. “You don’t have any of the five-lions-holding-up-the-universe ones?” he directed the question back to Kovirak.

 

One ear flicked up and she frowned, obviously thinking hard. “I’m not sure...refresh my memory?”

 

“Well, the most common version I heard was that Alfor made the Lions to hold up the universe.” Matt explained. He gestured with his spoon, marking five spots in the air. “First he made Yellow, but the universe kept tipping off to the sides, so he made Blue. And it still wasn’t stable so he made Red and Green. But even with all four of them the universe sagged in the middle because it was so big. So he made Black and finally the universe was properly balanced on all five of them, safe and secure.”

 

Allura choked on a mouthful of food goo. “He made--hold up the _ universe _ ?” She demanded incredulously. Ten thousand cycles was apparently enough time for Alfor’s work to get blown completely out of proportion! No wonder so many people thought Voltron was a myth! “The Lions are powerful, but they’re not  _ that _ strong!”

 

Matt simply laughed and shook his head. “It’s just a kid’s story, Allura, one warped by countless retellings. I’m not sure where they decided Alfor was responsible for maintaining the universe itself, but it is what it is.”

 

Allura frowned but subsided as Kovirak flicked an ear thoughtfully. “No, I don’t remember ever hearing one like that. I think the closest we have is the one about how the Lions were made. Supposedly,” she shot Allura a cheeky grin, “Red was made from a supernova, Green from a newborn star, Blue from a black hole, Yellow from an entire system of giant planets, and Black from all the spaces in between.” She laughed. “Keith loved that one.” She turned a fond smile on Keith, who startled, reddened, and quickly looked down at his plate.

 

Groaning, Allura pressed a palm to her face as Coran laughed beside her. “Well, Black is almost correct in that story. Her quintessence was drawn from the interstellar void.” He commented, twirling his moustache thoughtfully. “And Yellow’s did come from a planet, although only one and not even the entire planet at that. The rest? Nonsense.”

 

“If you think that’s nonsense, you should hear the one about the battle against the Yelterian Star-Eater.” Matt put in.

 

Allura relaxed in her seat, eating her breakfast slowly and enjoying the conversation and laughter as Matt and Kovirak vied to outdo each other by recounting the most ridiculous myths they could think of. After the trials of the previous day, this one seemed to be off to a badly-needed good start.

 

A lull in the conversation had her looking up sharply. Kovirak had faltered mid-sentence, her ears laying back slightly as Kurogane and Alejandro stood in the doorway. The pair seemed to be hesitating, unusual for them, as they eyed the array of empty seats. Usually they would sit as far away from Kovirak as they could get, so why they weren’t headed for those spots now she wasn’t sure.

 

Alejandro murmured something in his partner’s ear and Kurogane nodded. Then, with a deep breath and squaring of shoulders, the former red paladin marched into the room and made his way not to the far seat by Ryou, but to the empty seat directly beside Kovirak and dropped into it without a word.

 

An awed hush fell, everyone gaping openly or, in Shiro’s case, beaming proudly (he must have known something the rest of them didn’t, Allura realized) at Kurogane as Alejandro settled into the seat beside him. As the silence stretched Kurogane studiously ignored the eyes on him, but his cheeks were getting progressively redder until the scars on his face stood out in vivid white streaks and he seemed to be trying to melt a hole in the wall across from him with the sheer force of his glare alone.

 

Alejandro cleared his throat loudly, and Allura jumped. So did everyone else. Realizing they’d all been staring quite rudely, she cleared her throat and turned her gaze back to her breakfast while doing her best to pretend her cheek markings weren’t blazing bright pink with mortification. “I’m sorry, Kovirak, you were telling us about the legend of Altean Advisor Coran and the pirates of Klrytun Nebula?” She managed to get out.

 

There was another moment’s pause, Kovirak’s gaze still fixed on the man beside her, her older son who hadn’t willingly come within ten spans of her if he didn’t have to since the day they’d first met. There was no mistaking the stunned hope in those yellow eyes. Then she shook herself, seemed to force her ears back into a more normal posture, and nodded. “I...yes...ah, where was I?”

 

“Infiltrating the central star nursery in search of the hidden base, I believe.” Coran offered helpfully, but there was a gentleness to his tone that suggested he understood better than anyone else there exactly what was going on in Kovirak’s mind and heart.

 

“Right. That. Thank you. So that part of the story says…” As a faltering Kovirak resumed her recounting of the various legends and stories that apparently documented the supposed escapades of one Coran Heironymous Wimbledon Smythe--and as ridiculous as the stories were somehow Allura couldn’t bring herself to completely discount any of it, especially with that mischievous twinkle in his eye--Allura kept an eye on the awkward pair beside her. It took a while, but they did eventually lose some of their stiffness and move more naturally. 

 

Eventually Colleen stumbled into the room, yawning and reaching for the jug of the stimulant the paladins had deemed ‘space coffee’ as she sagged into the chair beside Alejandro. Lance and Hunk were right behind her, and Allura frowned as she noticed the way Lance hesitated looking at the few remaining seats between Colleen and Keith before taking the one furthest from his teammate. Apparently there were still some issues between the two, despite the blue paladin having been less withdrawn since returning from the last visit with his family. That could become a problem if they found themselves in another battle. She’d have to keep an eye on it, or perhaps speak with Coran, Hunk, and Shiro. Those three usually had the best idea of what was going on in the heads of the team’s least stable pair. For now though, she was relieved to see the cheerful atmosphere in the room rapidly picking up the moods of those three as well.

 

Nearly everyone was done eating by the time Pidge appeared, still looking more asleep than awake as she flopped into the last seat by Keith. On her other side, Hunk greeted her cheerfully and laughed when she grumbled unintelligibly. “Right. Coffee first, then talk.” He poured her a mug of the stimulant, passing it over carefully. “This stuff is going to stunt your growth, you know.”

 

Pidge grunted, a noise that might have been acknowledgement, indifference, refutation, or all three, and downed half the mug in one long swallow, shuddering before taking another long gulp. Allura resisted the urge to make a face just watching her. She would never understand how the Humans or Coran could stand the taste of the stuff, even with the energy boost it gave.

 

Trying to lose herself in the chatter again, Allura found her gaze constantly drifting back to Pidge as the youngest paladin slowly started to perk up, unable to quite shake the feeling of something not adding up. Pidge seemed fine, nibbling at her food goo and pausing to rub the sleep from her eyes. Her gaze was distant, but it was the distance of someone still waking up rather than the distracted expression of someone deep in thought that she’d been wearing the night before, tapping away furiously at her laptop in a determined effort to break the encryption on the files Marmora had left behind.

 

Allura stiffened, bolting upright in her chair.  _ That’s _ what was missing! Her laptop! Even barely awake, Pidge never left the device behind while she was engrossed in a project. Not to mention she’d obviously been  _ asleep _ , and unless she’d worked until she dropped Pidge never willingly slept in the middle of working on something so important. And given that she’d slept soundly two nights previously and should have still had energy to spare, that could only mean…Allura grinned in delight.

 

“Pidge!” She called across the table, unable to quite keep the excitement out of her voice.

 

Pidge looked up, cheeks bulging with a mouthful of food, and made a muffled interrogative sound.

 

“You don’t have your laptop with you. Does that mean you were successful in your efforts with the files?” Her question attracted the attention of Hunk and Lance, who looked over eagerly.

 

The small paladin held up a finger for patience, quickly chewing her food, but there was no mistaking her smug grin as she swallowed and pushed her glasses up with the tip of a finger. “What, like you doubted me?”

 

Hunk barked a laugh. “Not a chance. Only someone who doesn’t know you at all would ever have bet you’d fail.” He bumped her shoulder lightly with his own as Lance leaned across for a high five.

 

“Wasn’t even that hard.” Pidge declared casually, shrugging and reaching to spoon up more goo. “Green’s engineering scanner opened them right up no sweat.”

 

Lance cocked his head slightly, listening to something only he could hear--probably Blue, Allura thought, having seen all of the paladins make a similar gesture now and then--then burst out laughing. “You left out the part where using the scanner was Green’s idea, not yours.” He teased, jabbing his spoon at her.

 

Clasping a hand to his chest, Hunk let out a mock-scandalized gasp. “ _ Pidge! _ You weren’t trying to take credit for Green’s hard work, were you?”

 

“I-I was getting to that!” Pidge yelped, her cheeks going crimson (Humans blushed so strangely!) as she swatted Lance’s spoon away from her.

 

“Uh huh. Sure you were.” Lance smirked. “Liar liar pants on fire.”

 

Allura blinked. “Why are her pants on fire?” She asked, starting to lean down to look under the table. She didn’t smell smoke, and the Castle’s alarms would have reacted to even a small on-board fire.

 

“Earth saying. Not literal.” Pidge shot at her before turning her attention back to the other two. “And Green wouldn’t even  _ have _ that scanner without me getting the Learning aspect, so it’s a team effort, dammit!”

 

“Whatever you say, Pidgey.” Lance sing-songed.

 

“ _ Shut it _ .” Pidge hissed. “Regardless of  _ how _ I did it, the point is the files are decrypted! I took a look through some of them last night.”

 

“Well done to both of you.” Allura said firmly while wondering what it was that caused the interactions of arguing siblings to be so universally similar across thousands of sentient species. “What did you find in the records, Pidge?”

 

“Um, lots of stuff.” She stuffed another scoop of food into her mouth and chewed thoughtfully before washing it down with more stimulant. “Stuff about the other paladins and apprentices. Stuff about Zarkon specifically. There was one labelled ‘useful information’ that I haven’t actually looked at yet. A reference file of the stuff she needed to do or not do to influence the timeline they way she was supposed to. And a message for me.” There was a hesitation in her voice as she mentioned the last item, and she lowered her spoon to poke at the goo instead of taking another mouthful.

 

Lance and Hunk went still, and something twisted uncomfortably in Allura’s gut. An island of quiet seemed to surround the four of them, even the oblivious chatter of the others around them oddly muted in that moment.

 

It was Lance who moved first, leaning over the table to see Pidge’s face. “You doing okay? Do you need to talk about it?”

 

She let out a small sigh, setting down her spoon in favour of taking off her glasses and bending the arms back and forth. “I...think I’m okay? It just made it really hit home. Exactly what they did, I mean. She knew my name. She knew what happened to Dad and Matt. At Kerberos, I mean. She...she said she wished she knew whether I would find them.” She swallowed hard.

 

“Aw geez, Pidge…” Hunk murmured, carefully slipping an arm around her shoulders.

 

“I’m okay.” She murmured, leaning into him and accepting Lance’s fingers lacing with her own. “But I get why you guys were all so freaked yesterday now.” Her smile was shaky, and Lance chuckled.

 

“That’s one word for it, yeah.” He squeezed her hand and sat up properly. “We’ll be okay too, though. Promise.”

 

As he said it, though, his gaze flicked to Allura, and she resisted the impulse to check her shapeshift again. It was probably fine, he was just uncannily perceptive. Blues and yellows often were. Certainly Alfor, Aven, and Fiorin had been. And Acalli, for all she turned her knowledge to different uses.

 

She pushed the thoughts away hastily before they could drag her mood down further. “Yes.” She said, more firmly than she really felt. “It may take some time to...adjust...to the revelations--” Time to come to terms with renewed anger and hurt and betrayal. “--but we will. There are more important things to focus on.”

 

“Like the war.” Pidge agreed, pushing away from Hunk to sit up straight once more. Allura realized all three were looking at her now, the earlier laughter gone from their eyes. “Right. What’s the plan for today?”

 

________

 

The image on the screen panned slowly across a wide field lined with neat rows of crops. Small figures worked their way along the rows, tending each plant with methodical precision. It could have been any small village on any primitive planet in the Empire, if not for the eerie silence that hung over the scene. Plants rustled, insectoids chirped. But not one of the figures in the field uttered a sound, or even lifted their heads from their work.

 

A crackle of static interrupted the softer sounds, followed by an amused huff and a voice with the slightly tinny quality of someone speaking into a poorly-made pressure-suit microphone. “Total planetary application achieved in just over five standard rotations--about four and a half, local time-keeping. May be one or two still hiding in the bushes, but it’ll get them eventually.” They laughed.

 

Lotor hummed a pleased noise low in his throat. “Excellent. Rate of spread was standard?”

 

The camera bobbed slightly as the wearer nodded. “Yes sir. For this level of technology, five rotations is typical for the latest mass-vaccinator technology.”

 

“And the response?”

 

“Only local panic at contact until the second day. Someone must have been making a distance call when it hit the town and word got out ahead. After that it got messy--people fleeing into the cities, out of the cities, hiding in their houses, whatever they could think of.” Another derisive laugh was audible. “Not that it saved any of them, of course.”

 

“Of course.” Lotor purred, his lips quirking in a pleased smile as he shifted in the throne to recross his legs. “Were you able to obtain footage?”

 

Another bob. “Yes sir. And I even managed to get footage of the moment it hit one town. Patching it through now.”

 

Delighted, Lotor straightened as the image on the screen shifted. The camera now seemed to be inside a small town, peering around the corner of a wood-and-brick building into a main street. People--tall and thick, with orange scales and four legs each--milled anxiously, running this way and that.

 

Then a scream was heard. The source was out of view but in an instant every head snapped to the left side of the camera’s field of view. Suddenly everyone was running--to the right, away from the scream, crying out in terror and panic. Someone stumbled. The panic seemed to fade from their face, replaced by an empty blankness as they stood stock-still in the middle of the rushing crowd. Then another did the same, and another. As the remainder of the fleeing crowd passed beyond the camera’s view, almost a dozen blank-faced, silent individuals were left behind. As one, they turned and walked toward the fields.

 

A moment later, others joined them, appearing from the direction in which the crowd had fled. The screams still audible in the distance were thinner, fewer. 

 

It took only doboshes for them to stop entirely.

 

A gleeful warmth settled into Lotor’s chest as the clip ended, his heart racing with anticipation. “Excellent work. Decontaminate and return. I must speak with Haggar at once.”


	55. Chapter 55

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: Brief but graphic descriptions of death and injury during the flashback in the Coran POV and the paragraphs following.
> 
> Remember that collab project I mentioned last chapter? That's up now if you haven't seen it! It's listed as part of a series with this fic now. Bird, Nonny, and I had a great time writing it, so please enjoy Akira Shirogane and the Accidental Interdimensional Roadtrip!
> 
> Also, season 7. Wow. I gotta say, some things really disappointed me (the lack of real emotional substance surrounding Shiro and Adam's relationship, everything to do with that awful filler episode), some were just Holy Shit (fucking Atlastron, man, and I stan the MFE pilots now and forever), and I was surprised how much stuff this fic got right! Badass Colleen busting the Garrison's secrets, Good Guy Iverson, a superweapon aimed at Earth, and Earth's pilots playing a critical role in defending their home.
> 
> Finally, for those of you who are writers or artists, you should check out @poly-rainbow-bang on tumblr! It's a bang coming up shortly for poly ships featuring Allura, Keith, Pidge, Hunk, and Lance, because these guys get so little poly love! I'm already working on a fic for it, and I hope some of you guys will sign up or spread the word too!
> 
> Enjoy the chapter!

A touch to Kolivan's shoulder startled him and he jerked, looking up from the mess of holographic files scattered across the table in front of him and shaking his head to clear his muddy thoughts. "Sorry, what were you saying?" He asked his second-in-command, Teska, who was looking at him from across the work surface with a deep frown on her face.

 

"She was saying that you need to go get some sleep." Said another voice in his ear. Kolivan's head whipped around, claws curling--it had been just the two of them in here, hadn't it?--and his eyes crossed at the sudden movement. He had to blink rapidly to bring the purple blur in front of him into focus to find Ozleka holding a medical scanner over him with an exasperated expression. When had he gotten here?

 

"What are you doing here? Is there a problem in medical?" Kolivan tried to lunge to his feet, but Ozleka stopped him with surprising ease and shook his head.

 

"No, no problem in medical." One ear flicked back in disapproval. "Only a Blade Leader who's been working himself to the point of collapse rather than take proper care of himself. When was the last time you slept?"

 

Kolivan scowled, well aware of the exhaustion that had been steadily creeping up on him over the last several vargas. Over the last decarotation he'd been using old concentration tricks to keep the effects at bay and keep himself alert to handle the crisis, but that couldn't work forever and he'd apparently reached his limit. But he wasn't about to admit that if he could help it. "I'm fine. It's just been a long day. Now if you'll excuse me, I have work to do. Teska, do you have that list of suitable candidates for combat trainers to send with the Icebringers?"

 

Now Teska was looking as exasperated as Ozleka. "I do. Just like I did when you asked me fifteen doboshes ago, and twice in the five doboshes before that. Which is why I called Ozleka. You're no use to anyone when you're this exhausted, Kolivan." The aggravated look on her face reminded him all too much of her predecessor, Antok, and he found himself wondering whether that was something she'd picked up from her superior back when she was third-in-command to the older Galra, or if the expression just came with the position. He hastily pushed the meandering thought away. Focus.

 

"And she was quite right to do so. You've been pushing yourself much too hard, especially since the worst of the crisis is long over." Ozleka looked at him sternly. "I am hereby relieving you of duty for a minimum of--when are the paladins due back?" He looked over at Teska.

 

"Not for another ten vargas or so."

 

He nodded, turning back to Kolivan. "For a minimum of nine vargas, then."

 

Kolivan bristled. "You can't give me orders." He grunted, trying very hard to pretend he didn't sound like a petulant cub.

 

"As a matter of fact I can. In medical situations any senior medic can override the commands of the Blade Leader. It's one of the oldest regulations." Ozleka's lips quirked up in a smirk. "For exactly this reason."

 

Scowling, Kolivan pushed himself to his feet, intent on arguing the point further. There was far too much to be done for him to waste time sleeping, and if there was an emergency...but his limbs were unexpectedly leaden and his head spun at the sudden change in elevation, forcing him to grab at the edge of the table for support and Ozleka to grab his arm to steady him. Closing his eyes until the dizziness passed, he let out a soft hiss of frustration, as much for the inadvertent display of weakness that his people couldn't afford to see in their leader at a time like this as for the fact that Ozleka was, loathe as he was to admit it, all too correct. "Fine." He grit out between clenched teeth.

 

Teska sighed, sagging in obvious relief that he wasn’t going to argue further. "Thank you, Kolivan. I'll get as much of this done as I can before the paladins arrive." She gestured to the scattered files and gave him a weary smile.

 

In his haze of exhaustion, Kolivan didn't remember Ozleka steering him back to his quarters, or his head hitting the pillow. Instead the next clear memory he had was when he sneezed himself awake on the dust that had accumulated on the bed from several rotations of disuse.

 

Snorting to clear his nostrils, he sat up and squinted at the faint glow of the timepiece. Eight vargas, give or take. Good enough. He could still feel the lingering exhaustion deep in his bones, and knew that it would take substantially more rest to truly recover from how hard he'd been pushing himself, but for the moment his head was noticeably clearer than it had been in rotations and his stomach was urgently reminding him that it, too, had been sorely neglected as of late. Swapping his rumpled uniform for a clean one, and running a brush through his fur to neaten it, Kolivan strode out into the corridor and headed for the main cafeteria. The hallways were as crowded as ever, Blades and their families moving this way and that on private errands or working tasks, but there was something subtly different about the atmosphere this morning that made the leader slow his steps, studying those around him as he tried to decipher what exactly it was that had changed.

 

The mood, he realized abruptly, taking in the glint of determination in their eyes. They're no longer wounded and afraid. They're ready to fight again.

 

Blades could keep secrets, of course. They had to. But when something didn't need to be kept under wraps, the information had been known to travel from one end of the base to the other in doboshes. Undoubtedly everyone had by now learned of the events of that meeting, of Kolivan's firm resolution that the Blades of Marmora would continue to fight the battle they had chosen, regardless of the purpose their founder may have intended. He gritted his teeth at the thought of Marmora. That news, too, was most likely all over the base. The fact that their trusted founder had used them, all of them, for ten thousand cycles. That would account for the anger and defiance in their expressions. But anger was preferable to defeat.

 

He nodded greetings in passing to those who acknowledged his presence and continued to make his way to the cafeteria. It was crowded, groups of warriors and technicians and specialists forming knots of conversation at various tables. As his ears shifted this way and that, he realized many were discussing strategies, weak points in the Empire, or how they could contribute to the newly-expanded alliance of the Blades, Voltron, and the Icebringers. Kolivan allowed a small smile to quirk his lips. Teska had been hard at work, then. Some of the tasks they had yet to complete before Ozleka had ordered him to rest had involved polling their people for volunteers for new types of missions, from providing training for the Icebringer warriors to expand their skills to the infiltration of various types of ships and bases that they never would have attacked directly before. New duties would replace those that had been lost, like the deep cover infiltrations and the regional monitoring bases, and from the sound of it his people were eager to get to work. He hummed in satisfaction.

 

His good mood lasted just long enough for him to get his tray at the counter, find a seat, and take two bites of his breakfast rations, before his wrist computer vibrated with an incoming message. He tapped the acceptance key and scanned the brief text. The paladins would be coming down as soon as the passageway opened again in one varga and thirteen doboshes. And the Princess reported that the Green Paladin had successfully cracked the files Marmora had left behind, and that he should make sure that anyone who he thought should be privy to the contents should be present for the day's meeting.

 

Kolivan scowled and closed the message. Perhaps he shouldn't be surprised that a paladin had succeeded where generations of the best codebreakers the Blades could produce had failed. The Blades were not her true legacy, now that they'd served their purpose. The new paladins, picked ten thousand cycles before they were ever born, were. And that's who her knowledge was intended to serve.

 

He pushed his tray away, the food suddenly tasting like ashes in his mouth, and rose to his feet. There was work still to be done before the paladins arrived back at the base.

 

_______

 

"I'm not opening a damn thing with all of you hovering over me like this." Pidge scowled around her, hands pressed firmly over the lid of her laptop.

 

Coran chuckled and exchanged an amused glance with Shiiar'keh as the group clustered around Pidge--consisting of Lance, Hunk, Alejandro, Malrento, and a Blade who had the slightly rumpled look of someone who was more academic than warrior--hastily dispersed to find seats at the long conference table. Pidge continued to glare at them until they were all seated, before turning it on Matt, who had leaned over to peer at her screen when she finally flipped the device open. Her brother just laughed and withdrew, his hands coming up in a peacemaking gesture. With one final irritated look around the room, Pidge's fingers flew over the keyboard, connecting to the room’s holoprojector and bringing up several files on the main screen.

 

"So there are a number of files, but I didn't get a chance to go through them all last night. One was a message for me personally from Marmora, so we'll skip that one. The only relevant information was that it confirms I've unlocked the learning aspect, which gives Green some sort of special scanner that can reverse engineer something without needing to take it apart. That's what was needed to unlock the files, apparently. Marmora designed them that way." Her glance at Kolivan was slightly apologetic before she turned her attention back to the screen. "Um, then there's this one, 'choreography'. I had a look through it and it seems to be the list of what actions she had to take to make things happen the way the paladins needed them to."

 

The Blade who'd been trying to peer over her shoulder earlier straightened, leaning forward eagerly. "May I get a copy of that file? I'd like to compare it to our records from the early days of the Blades of Marmora and see if I can get some idea of just how far the influence of her actions spread."

 

Pidge nodded and grinned, copying the decrypted file back into the Blade computers. "Sure thing. Make sure you send me a copy, I'd like to know too!"

 

"Gladly." The Blade replied distractedly. He'd already pulled out a data tablet and started perusing the file, making notations with quick fingers, and Malrento leaned over curiously to observe.

 

Shiiar'keh made a soft whuffing noise of amusement through their nostrils. "Historians." They muttered to Coran, tone fondly exasperated.

 

"They never do change, do they?" Coran murmured back, not bothering to hide the laughter in his tone. "Alfor informed me I was just as bad, though, whenever I discovered something to my interests." The number of times he'd been completely distracted from diplomacy or danger by the appearance of some exotic new creature...his lips quirked in fond memory of many incidents. Although in his defense, there had been more than a couple of occasions where a recently-befriended animal had ended up coming to their rescue after things had gone out of orbit, (even if Coran's distraction had been the reason they'd gone off in the first place).

 

"We all have our vices." Shiiar'keh chuckled before going silent as Pidge turned her attention to the next set of files.

 

"These ones are basically...biographies, I think," she was saying. The files now in the foreground were labelled Aven, Loh'raakkar, Kobar, and Ilexam, and Coran's heart twisted painfully. "Something to remember them by. We'll need to go through them later, in case there's anything important, but not right now. They're too long for that."

 

"Makes sense." Lance commented, resting his chin in his palm. "What's this one?" He pointed up at a file in one corner of the screen. "Zarkon is a...I can't pronounce that, but I'm guessing it isn't very nice." He grinned, obviously approving.

 

"It's not." Matt laughed. "Katie, your predecessor had an even dirtier mouth than you do."

 

Pidge huffed in mock annoyance. "My language isn't  _ that  _ bad, Matt, go fuck yourself." She clicked over to the file in question, ignoring Shiro's despairing groan and the laughter from some of the others. "I haven't actually looked at this one yet, so your guess is as good as mine."

 

The chatter faded as she expanded the file to fill the screen with the contents, every set of eyes in the room starting to scan the lines of text on one side or the other, the precise glyphs of Galran or the odd blocky shapes of English based on whatever language each individual understood. Coran's mental comparison of the two alphabets faded abruptly from his mind as he registered the meaning of the words staring back at him.

 

Koltarma.

 

This was a recounting of what had happened on that awful, awful day, when Zarkon and Acalli had turned their backs on the universe once and for all.

 

He found himself frozen in his chair as, at a quiet request from Shiro, Pidge began to read the document's contents aloud. All he could do was close his eyes and let the words wash over him. As she read, her voice turned to another’s in his memories as a shocked and shaken Alfor recounted the tragedy to a Coran only a few periods younger and still cycles more innocent.

 

_ "I should have known." Alfor's voice shook, hoarse from shouting and raw with grief, as he paced back and forth across the bedroom. "I should have known something like this was coming. Should have seen it. _ _ He's always been--fixated--on his people, on their welfare, on how they'll benefit from everything that happens in the universe. He loves his people so much. Too much. I should have realized. We went there to make peace and instead...he learned how to make war." _

 

_ Coran's eyes widened. He reached for Alfor, trying to pull him down onto the edge of the bed beside him where he could offer comfort, but his husband pulled away to continue pacing, one hand tugging at his silver hair in agitation and Coran relented, his chest aching at the sight of his beloved so distraught. "Start from the beginning, love. You're not making much sense. What happened out there?" _

 

_ Alfor sighed, then nodded. "Zarkon assigned himself to the Molkra faction, the most warlike of the regions, and I didn't question it. The Galra still have a tradition of combat amongst themselves, I thought he'd be better able to relate to them than a member of a more peaceful race like the Olkari or the H'ress. He certainly seemed to get along with them just fine. And I had enough on my mind trying to soothe the Lomari. They were....afraid of some of the other factions. With good reason, as it turns out." _

 

_ "When Zarkon and Acalli arrived at the negotiating table after the learning period, something felt off. Even I could feel it. Kobar and Torlast were on edge from the moment they walked in the door alongside the Molkra and Itro leaders. Zarkon, Acalli, they were...relaxed and tense at the same time. The same way they always look in anticipation of a fight. I thought it was just anticipation of potential conflict between the leaders. I should have...I should have known better." _

 

_ Alfor paused, seeming to search for his next words. His hands shook, curled into fists at his sides as he stared unseeing towards the window, beyond which a flight of hastily-retrofitted ships was taking off. Anything that could be made to carry an armament was being modified as the entire planet struggled to shift to a war footing for the first time in several hundred cycles. When he spoke again, his voice was thin and strained. "It happened so fast." _

 

_ "One moment Aven and Fiorin were directing everyone to their seats, the next Zarkon stepped forward to the head of the table and told them 'that won't be necessary.' Stars, Coran, he sounded like he was laughing even as he said it. He said that he and the Molkra leaders had come to a mutually beneficial arrangement, which would take effect immediately. And then..." He swallowed hard. "Suddenly his bayard was active in his hands and Loh'raakkar was staggering back with their throat sliced to the bone." _

 

_ Coran's stomach twisted sickeningly at the mental image. He fought down the nausea, imposing iron control on himself. Now was not the time to fall to pieces. "And then?" He prompted. _

 

_ Alfor let out a slow breath that carried the ghost of a bitter laugh. "Aven jumped toward him, I think. I don't know what he thought he would achieve aside from his own death, but that's exactly what he got. That poor, brave boy." Tears were gleaming on the yellow paladin's cheeks, grief for his kind-hearted apprentice. "And even as Aven was struck down, Acalli opened fire with her quintessence, striking down several of the Koltarman leaders, including the Itro leader she'd spent the last decarotation with. Zarkon just laughed as they screamed. 'Congratulations,' he said, 'on being the first planet to join with the Galra Empire.' And he was looking at me as he said it, Coran. I could see in his eyes that Altea would be next." He shuddered. _

 

_ "Kobar kept her head the best, I think." He continued after a moment. "She ordered the rest of us to get to the Lions, to get out. She was always a fast thinker, she must have realized that with Loh'raakkar dead Zarkon's bond to the Black Lion was completely unopposed and stars help us if he turned her on the rest of us. She leapt to deflect a killing blow directed at Torlast, and told me to take the other apprentices and the Lions and go, while she and Ilexam held them off. She...she threw me her bayard. And Ilexam did too." _

 

_ Coran's breath caught in his throat and he closed his eyes, giving a single, sharp nod of understanding. Against Zarkon and Acalli, the two strongest fighters in the team, even the entire rest of the group would have stood no chance. Kobar and Ilexam had gone willingly to their deaths to grant the remainder a chance at life. _

 

_ Alfor's gaze was haunted as he opened his eyes again. "What else could I do?" He begged, pleading with his tone for reassurance of the impossible choice he had made. "Zarkon and Acalli would have cut us down like mown saddath grass. Loh'raakkar and Aven were already dead, and Torlast badly wounded by Zarkon’s next blow--he was toying with us, Coran. If he wanted to we’d all have been dead before we even knew what was happening. And the Lions could not be allowed to fall into their control. Ancients, a conqueror with that kind of power at his control..." The idea was beyond horrific, and they both knew it. His breath shuddered in his chest, the heel of one hand pressing to his eyes as if that would stem the flow of tears, the shame and the grief that Coran could see ripping the king apart from the inside out. "So I...I went. Marmora and I grabbed Torlast, with Fiorin to cover our retreat, and we ran. We did exactly as Kobar ordered us to do. And left." _

 

_ Unable to stand it anymore, Coran rose to his feet and pulled Alfor into his arms, allowing his husband to bury his face in his shoulder and weep for the betrayal, the helplessness, the grief, and the fear. "Shh, shh. It's alright. You did what you had to do. You saved four lives, and protected the Lions. And even more importantly, you made it out to warn us of Zarkon's plans. Altea may have been peaceful for many cycles now, but we weren't always, nor were many of our allies. Whatever delusions of conquering the Koltarmans may have convinced him he could achieve, we'll soon put a stop to them, once and for all." _

 

Fools. What utter fools they had been.

 

A deep silence had fallen over the room as Pidge’s shaking voice trailed off on the final lines of the file. Coran realized he'd missed most of Marmora’s version of the tragedy, and wondered what had been included and what hadn't. The careless flick of Zarkon's whip that had gashed Alfor's cheek nearly to the bone as he strove to get out of range? The blast of Acalli's abilities that had almost taken Marmora's legs out from under her as she ran, cracking off armor and singeing fur? Torlast nearly bleeding out in their arms even as xe was carried from the Red Lion and rushed to the healing pods deep inside the Castle of Lions? The mocking laughter as the four combatants faded from view, their utter surety that even if the remainder of the group was allowed to run, they could never hide themselves or the Black Lion from Zarkon’s grasp? From the chilled looks on the faces of those around him, it was likely all of that and more.

 

A clawed hand on Coran's shoulder made him jump. Shiiar'keh was looking at him with deep concern in their four black eyes, an expression so similar to the ones Loh'raakkar had worn whenever they knocked someone down in training that it made his heart squeeze in his chest. "My deepest sorrows for your losses, Coran." They murmured in a low voice. "And for such appalling betrayal."

 

Coran could only nod, unable to speak around the lump in his throat. So many innocent lives shattered by just two people. His eyes were burning, and he abruptly realized his cheeks were wet. Unacceptable. He was supposed to the the anchor, the rock, for the paladins and the princess all so much younger than him. He could not fall apart over something so simple as a memory, even one of the beginning of the end of all he’d known and loved. "Excuse me a moment." He managed to force out as he rose to his feet. Before anyone else could say a word he slipped out into the hallway and leaned back against the wall with a hand over his eyes as he struggled to regain his composure.

 

He wasn't sure how long he stood there, fighting against the flow of tears until they finally subsided to sticky trails on his face. But he was left in peace to do so and for that he was grateful. He needed to be strong, but right now that was proving harder than expected. The wounds of Zarkon's betrayal--a man who had been a brother to himself and Alfor in all but blood for many cycles--and Acalli's--Alfor's own sister, for all they'd often been at odds with each other--had cut him to the very heart. They had, without hesitation, turned on those who should have been siblings to them and torn them apart for their own gain.

 

It was a betrayal that had been cycles in the making and Coran, his soldier's instincts blinded by unswerving loyalty and boundless trust, had never seen it coming.

 

If he had, maybe things would have been different.

 

The sound of the door opening beside him interrupted his thoughts and he glanced over to find Alejandro regarding him seriously as he stepped out and shut the door behind him. But the expected questions didn't come, only a silently-proffered handkerchief he recognized after a moment as Allura's. Coran took a deep breath and accepted the thin square of fabric, wiping carefully at his cheeks and dabbing around his eyes.

 

Alejandro waited patiently, his demeanor calm and unjudgemental as he tucked his hands into the pockets of his jacket and leaned against the wall. Even so, as Coran glanced over at him, he was reminded that out of all those who dwelt aboard the Castle, the two time-travellers were perhaps best-equipped to understand his pain. The agony of loss, and the feeling of failing those who had been close to you.

 

The silence stretched between them, until Coran sighed and straightened. Alejandro did so as well, offering him a thin, wry smile that twisted the scar jagged across his cheek. "You think you know a guy, huh?" He commented quietly.

 

"Unfortunately not nearly as well as I believed I did." Coran agreed with a sigh. "The fleet he launched against Altea was not built in the handful of decarotations it took for him to assassinate King Olvektin, consolidate his power over the Galran homeworld, and secure the Molktra faction's rule over the rest of Koltarma in his name. Nor was the total, systematic disappearance of most of the  _ amvel nayeta  _ from Altea orchestrated so quickly."

 

"Yeah. That's about what I figured. The trouble with the most dangerous liars is they're usually really, really good at it." The scar twisted again with another bitter smile, and Coran winced in sudden understanding.

 

"Spoken from experience, I take it."

 

"Some, yeah." Alejandro nodded. He didn't offer any further explanation, and Coran didn't press. "Ready to go back inside and figure out how we're gonna kick some traitor ass?"

 

A firm weight of angry determination settled into Coran's chest and he nodded firmly. "Quite." What was done was done. Time to move forward.

 

________

 

Pidge grimaced, biting at her nails as the others talked in low voices while they waited for Coran and Alejandro to come back. She was such an idiot. She should have checked the files more thoroughly, known what they all were, so that nobody got blindsided by bad memories like that. When she'd looked up and realized that  _ Coran _ \--solid, dependable Coran--was  _ crying _ , it had left something feeling sick and wrong inside her. It was like...like...like after Kerberos, she realized after a moment’s thought. The first time she'd ever seen her mom cry. And it  _ hurt _ .

 

The door opened again, Alejandro holding it open for Coran, and she found herself on her feet before she'd even realized she was moving. Coran stumbled as she threw her arms around him, hugging him tight and mumbling an apology with her face buried in his chest. "I'm so sorry. I should've known what that file was so we didn't have to go through it here."

 

After a moment he seemed to recover from his surprise, strong arms wrapping around and a hand patting her on the head. "There now. It's quite alright, number seven." He said quietly, voice thick with warm affection. "No harm done."

 

Doubtful, she pulled back and searched his face. A little puffy-eyed, but calm and resolute. Alejandro offered her a thumb's up over Coran's shoulder and she nodded before letting go. "Still gonna make it up to you later." She muttered, rubbing at her own eyes, and he chuckled.

 

"I look forward to it. For now, though, we still have work to do." He ruffled her hair, blue eyes sparkling fondly.

 

Pidge nodded and dropped back into her own seat and pointedly ignored the disapproving look on Kolivan's face. If he didn't like that the paladins showed their feelings instead of bottling them up and glaring at everyone like the Blades did, tough. That was the whole reason they worked so well together. Because they bonded. The fact that they all considered each other family only made them stronger fighters as far as she was concerned. 

 

After a moment the Blade Leader scowled and turned back to the others. "If you're all ready to continue...I took the liberty of scanning through the file designated 'Useful Information' while we were waiting. Most of it is unfortunately out of date as far as strategic value is concerned, but there are some technical designs that may serve as a basis for new equipment if the engineers can bring them to life, and some sections that appear to have to do with quintessence manipulation that may be of use to Princess Allura. The sections on the capabilities and fighting styles of Zarkon and Haggar are also, unfortunately, out of date and likely to be of little use. I recommend we move on directly to determining what our overall strategy will be going forward."

 

"Continuing to try to cripple their ability to wormhole troops and supplies with impunity would probably be a good idea." Shiro said thoughtfully. "Do you have statistics on the number and distribution of the druids in the Empire?"

 

Pidge found herself spacing out again as the discussion turned to combat ratios and risk-payoff discussions. Math was her specialty but this particular sort she found kind of tedious. Talking to death the probability of being able to take out a particular target and whether or not the probably cost in terms of resources and manpower was worth the strategic gain. That was more Shiro and Lance's specialty, as well as Coran's. Letting the words flow past her, she turned her attention to the last file, the one with the information that Kolivan had declared to be not very useful after all.

 

Scrolling through it, she couldn't help agreeing with his assessment. Most of it was ten thousand years out of date, which even Marmora acknowledged in her notes. But here and there, bits and pieces might be helpful--those not-very-detailed suggestions for cloaking device, for example. If they worked, they might make for some much-needed upgrades to the one she'd designed and installed in Green.

 

Near the bottom, she almost missed it. The word 'aspects', near the top of a small section in between a paragraph on the shortcomings of the first generation of Galran sentries and a few lines about how Acalli generally reacted to needling (aggressively, as if there'd been any other possibility). She quickly jumped back to the top of that section, reading it over again, then grinned and sat back in her chair. Once this meeting was over and they went back to the Castle, they'd all have to have another meeting of their own.


	56. Chapter 56

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No warnings for this chapter.
> 
> This one's a little shorter than I'd have liked, but what can you do. I'll update the aspect reference lists on both my blogs once I get a chance. Enjoy!

The massive star outside the ship bathed Colleen's room in a soft blue glow, cast off by the hologram Coran had shown her how to project on her wall to simulate having a window. The surface of the star rippled and flowed, casting off periodic flares of energy, in a chaotic rhythm that was almost hypnotic to watch. Gazing at it, and the dimmer whirlpools of the accretion disks that marked the star's black hole companions, Colleen could almost understand what it was about space that had drawn her family to it all their lives, the siren call that had pulled them out into the void one after another since the earliest days of the space program and into the sky before that. Sam had gazed at the Milky Way with the same soul-deep love she remembered from her uncle, her grandmother, and photos of those that came before them, and it had drawn her in as irresistibly as it had pulled him up. She had known going in that the stars were his first love, and she loved him all the more for it, and for the way he never made her feel the lesser for it.   
  
Her chest ached and she tore her gaze away from the display projected on the wall. She needed to focus on the remainder of her family, not on the still-lingering grief buried in her heart. Focus on helping however she could to ensure that the Galra would not take anyone else from her.   
  
And right now that meant focusing on her reading, not on the pulse of the stars outside. She turned herself firmly away, leaning against the wall at the head of her bed, and used a stylus to take rapid notes on one tablet as she scanned the next section of a book on Galran history on another.   
  
It was a familiar process that she'd used before in building her cases. If you understood where a person came from--their culture, their personal history, the way they thought--it was easy to take them apart on the witness stand and ensure they were punished for their crimes. Granted, this was a little more complicated, since she was dealing with beings that weren't Human, that had unique evolutionary histories shaping their thought process (Matt's specialty, not hers) and complex cultural histories entirely detached from the interconnected web of Earth's, but the principal was the same. All it meant was she had to do a lot more preliminary research.   
  
Right now she was familiarizing herself with Galran and Altean culture and history, as well as the broader strokes of the intergalactic network of alliances and enemies they'd once been part of, working her way forward from early civilizations to the years leading up to the war. Researching the events of the war itself was going to be much trickier, she knew. Aside from whatever records were maintained in the Castle's computers, any records the Empire had permitted to survive this long were almost certainly warped by generations of propaganda and misinterpretation. But even that might be useful in its own way, an insight into the thought processes of the murderers who the Alteans here had once called friends.   
  
The room's intercom buzzed just as she finished the chapter. " _ Colleen? _ " Ryou's voice came over the system. " _ They're on their way back now. _ "   
  
"Thanks, Ryou. I'm on my way." She called back absently, marking her place and jotting down a couple more lines of notes. Sighing, she pushed herself to her feet and stretched, wincing as joints cracked and popped from sitting so long, then tucked the devices neatly away in the storage drawer by the bed. Maybe it was a futile project. People could change a lot in even one year, let alone ten thousand. But it might not be, and that made it worth it. Knowing your enemy was the first step to victory, after all.   
  
________   
  
"So, what's the plan?" Ryou asked as he settled in beside his brother on one of the couches in the lounge. After a long day of hashing out combat strategy around a meeting table, no one really wanted to spend another hour or two sitting at the dining room table, so instead everyone had rounded up plates of leftovers and snacks and made themselves comfortable, sprawling out and draping limbs in every direction. Even Allura was letting go a bit, turned sideways with her legs tucked up beside her as she nibbled wearily on a bowl of something purple.   
  
"Continued strategic strikes to liberate prisoners, eliminate tactically-positioned bases, and take out Druids for now." Alejandro ticked off on his fingers as he dropped down to rest his head on Kurogane's thigh. Gentle fingers threaded through his hair and he let out a soft sigh of contentment before continuing. "Tomorrow we head to Sh'raa H'ressnol to see if we can't find whatever information Alfor and Fiorin left behind." He nodded towards Allura. "And once the Blades are fully reorganized and the ones coming with us have integrated into their positions with the Icebringers, we'll modify our strategy as the information we've gained dictates at that time."   
  
Ryou paused, giving him a dumbfounded look at the lengthy recitation. "You were down there for twelve hours for  _ that _ ?"   
  
Kovirak snorted into her bowl of food goo. "I've seen worse, believe me." She hesitated, then fell silent again.   
  
Alejandro hastily moved the topic along. "Yeah, well, it was mostly deciding what level of targets were worth the time and effort of attacking and which ones would be too risky without substantial advance planning. Also figuring out how many Blades were going along in what roles to support us in the field."   
  
"We did also learn some stuff from the files I decrypted, the ones Marmora left." Pidge pointed out around a mouthful of leftover lasagna.   
  
"What, like the fact that Zarkon and Acalli are terrible people? We knew that already." Hunk shot back, then winced as he glanced at Allura and Coran. "Sorry."   
  
Coran simply sighed and waved him off. "Believe me, I've been wondering since this war began how I could have so badly misjudged them both."   
  
Pidge gave a small nod, swallowing her food and straightening a bit. "I know, but I wasn't talking about any of that. I had a look at the last file, the one Kolivan went over while we were waiting. It has a section on the aspects!"   
  
Alejandro's head whipped around so fast he nearly rolled off his partner's lap, his heart pounding in his chest. "Seriously?”   
  
Pidge answered his question with a grin and another nod. "Yeah. It's not a totally complete list, and doesn’t go into much detail, but it does fill in some of the holes in our information. I was gonna bring it up after dinner."   
  
"Then that's exactly what we'll do." Shiro directed a proud smile her way.    
  
Alejandro flopped back against Kurogane's leg, exhaling slowly. He found himself oddly torn as he considered the information that was waiting to be discussed. On the one hand, it would be good to know what tools they would unlock, which ones the paladins should focus on unlocking in order to benefit the team. But on the other...he swallowed. What if there was something that, if they'd only known about it sooner, could have changed things before? Could have prevented some of the destruction, saved some of the lives?   
  
"Hey." A sharp flick to his forehead made him jerk. "I can hear you overthinking from here, Sharpshooter."   
  
"Am not." He lied, like they didn't both know perfectly well that he was. Kurogane wasn't good with people in general, but he knew  _ Alejandro _ inside and out. Kurogane simply snorted and broke off a piece of his sandwich, holding it to Alejandro's mouth. He accepted the bite without protest, savouring the taste--they'd been here almost a full period, but he didn't think he'd ever get tired of having actual food to eat, rather than packaged emergency rations. "...was just thinking how useful some of the aspects might turn out to be."   
  
"Uh huh." Kurogane let it slide. They finished the sandwich between them before Kurogane's fingers resumed carding through Alejandro's hair and he let out a little noise of happiness, nuzzling into the touch and listening to the chatter of the others as they ate and formed little knots of conversation.   
  
After only a few minutes, though, he felt eyes on him. Following the feeling, he found Lance watching them with an oddly thoughtful expression on his face. Alejandro quirked an eyebrow. "Something I can help you with?"   
  
Blushing, Lance ducked his head. "Sorry. No, I was just--thinking."   
  
"It's fine. Something on your mind?" Alejandro gave Kurogane's hand a quick squeeze and rolled back into a sitting position, leaning back against his partner's shoulder instead. He patted the floor in front of him in silent invitation for the other to move closer.   
  
"Not really..." Lance shrugged, shifting over to the indicated spot and tucking his knees up to his chest. "I was just...wondering. I mean, I know you two are together, but you never really told us what you are to each other officially. Engaged? Married? I mean, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to." He added hastily, putting up his hands. "I was just curious."   
  
Alejandro's eyes widened and he glanced over his shoulder for a moment at Kurogane, who looked just as surprised as he did at the question. Sighing, he turned back to Lance, hands fidgeting in his lap. "No, it's fine. We're...neither. Officially, we never took it past dating. We were going to, but..." He bit his lip, searching for the right words to convey exactly what had happened. "We'd talked about it. Once. Just before Shiro..." he shook his head. "And after that, it just...didn't feel right. Not having him there for that day would have been wrong, after everything he did for us. So we just...didn't." He could feel the tension in Kurogane's shoulder against his back, the subtle stiffness of the uncomfortable reminder. "We, ah, haven't talked about it much since."   
  
Lance could obviously see it too, and winced. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked."   
  
Waving a hand dismissively, Alejandro shook his head. "It's understandable. Especially with whatever's been happening between you and Keith." He forced a smile, trying to lighten the mood and steer the discussion back to safer ground. "How's that going, anyway?"   
  
Groaning, Lance tipped his head back against the couch behind him. "Terrible. Absolutely terrible."   
  
"Oh come on, I'm sure it's not that bad." Alejandro chuckled, leaning forward to pat him on the shoulder. "What happened?"   
  
"Oh, it really is." Lance muttered. He glanced over at Keith, sitting across the room by Kovirak, and sighed. "He told me how he felt and I rejected him because it was just after I found out about the whole Haggar-Acalli thing. And then when I apologized and explained, he said he needed time to think. And _ that _ was on the way to Blue's cave, so I dunno if he's been too busy or just needs more time, or..."   
  
Alejandro glanced over his shoulder at Kurogane again. His partner was more relaxed now, with an amused quirk to his lips, and he rolled his eyes and gave a tiny shrug when he saw Alejandro looking. Alejandro gave a small shake of his head in agreement and turned his head back to Lance, who was tracing patterns in the carpet with a fingertip and had missed the brief exchange. "You miss him, huh?" It was how he would have felt back then, under similar circumstances. Granted, Lance and Keith seemed to be taking a different romantic route entirely, but Alejandro trusted his memories of his own feelings back then.   
  
Lance nodded and bit his lip. "I screwed things up pretty bad. I really hurt him." He said quietly.   
  
Alejandro sighed and reached over to pull Lance closer against his side. "Not on purpose. And you were honest with him about your feelings, and why you did what you did, right?" Lance nodded, and he continued, keeping his voice low for privacy. "That's good. That's important. I think for now the best thing you can do is keep doing that. Be honest, and be his friend. Let him process what happened at his own speed, but continue to show you want to be around him. He's had too many people leave him in the past for him to automatically assume you won't." His free hand sought Kurogane's beside him, giving it a gentle squeeze and receiving one in return. They'd pieced this together themselves, through trial and error, and he could afford to save their past selves a whole lot of heartache by pointing them in the right direction.   
  
"Yeah...I kinda guessed that...He told me once that Shiro's the closest thing he ever had to family. But y'know, whatever happens between him and me specifically, we're his family now too. And I won't ever leave him." Lance's voice was unexpectedly fierce and Alejandro's heart swelled with pride.   
  
"Good." He clapped Lance on the back approvingly. "I know you won't. Just let him set the pace and pay close attention and I think you two will do just fine."   
  
Lance gave him a pleased, hopeful smile, but before he could speak again the conversation was interrupted by Shiro clapping his hands for their attention. "Alright. I know we've all had a long day with a lot of talking. Sorry, but we've gotta do one more round of it before we can call it a day." He chuckled at the grumbles and groans of complaint from around the room. "Relax, guys, this'll be less tedious. Pidge says one of the files has information on the aspects, so we can finally fill in some holes in our information on that topic."   
  
They slowly pulled themselves into positions of at least partial attentiveness while Pidge flipped her laptop open. At a go-ahead nod from Shiro, she cleared her throat. "Okay, so, Marmora's got them organized by aspect category. She doesn't have all of them, but some of the ones she's missing are ones we already have, and there are ones she has here that we don't know. Looking over her notes, it looks like we were right about our theory about different aspect categories having different areas of effect. The natural element ones provide upgrades to the Lions in their regular form, while the combative characteristics give upgrades that can be used in both the Lion form and the Voltron form. The physical analogues are exclusive to the Voltron form, and the personality traits give abilities to the paladins themselves."   
  
"I guess that makes sense in a way..." Hunk mused, resting his chin on one hand thoughtfully. "I mean, the Lions each have an elemental environment they do best in, so it makes sense the elemental upgrade would be only in that form. And the physical analogues are supposed to be about how someone fits together in a group, right? Each Lion's part in the Voltron form. And the combatives go either way, while the personality thing is about us instead of the Lions."   
  
"Yeah, that's roughly what I'm getting from her notes, although she keeps comparing them to things that aren't translating." Pidge huffed in annoyance, blowing a stray lock of hair out of her face and pushing her glasses up. "Anyway, I took the liberty of compiling a combined list of the aspects we've already unlocked, the ones we knew about already but hadn't unlocked yet, and the ones Marmora's list fills in. It's still not quite complete--we're still missing a couple of the physical analogues, but I guess she just never saw those ones in action or had any reason to find out about them until it was too late."   
  
"Well, what's our list look like, then?" Alejandro asked. He tightened his grip on Kurogane's hand in anticipation. This was something he'd wondered about since he'd first learned about the aspects, since they'd first been told about them by an Altean on the Long Wind, the most senior  _ amvel nayeta _ left after far too many casualties, her own training and knowledge woefully incomplete.   
  
Pidge nodded to him and took a deep breath. "Okay, recapping for the sake of thoroughness, we already unlocked all of the natural elemental attributes. That's Red's rail gun, Blue's sonic cannon, Yellow's heavy armor, Green's plant cannon, and Black's phasing. All of those we got before we knew exactly what they were."   
  
"They're not the only ones." Shiro pointed out.   
  
"No, and I'm getting to that, don't worry. Next is the combative characteristics. We've unlocked Red's ion boosters, Yellow's gravity anchors, and Green's engineering scanner, and we know that Blue's aspect provides extra maneuvering thrusters." She nodded to Alejandro, who shot her a thumb's up in return. "Marmora's list fills in the last one, but it's not very descriptive--most of them aren't, unfortunately. Black's combative characteristic upgrade is something called a 'multi-view combat analysis', whatever that means. I've been puzzling it over all day, and I've still got nothing."   
  
There was a pause, thoughtful frowns on most of the faces in the room as they thought that one over. Alejandro, turning the description over in his head, honestly wasn't sure what it might be referring to. "Some kind of threat analysis system? But then why call it 'multi-view'?"   
  
"That was pretty much my train of thought too." Pidge threw up her hands despairingly.   
  
Coran hummed as he stroked his moustache. "Perhaps something that allows the Black Lion to see through the eyes of her sisters?" He offered.   
  
Matt shook his head immediately at that one. "Wouldn't be useful in Voltron form, unless you needed to see out your toes for some reason." He cracked a grin.   
  
Chuckling, Coran nodded in acceptance. "Quite true, although I can certainly think of a scrape or two that the old paladins got themselves into in which such an ability would have been rather useful."   
  
Shiro sighed and shook his head. "Guess we'll just have to wait and see on that one. Next, please, Pidge."   
  
Pidge straightened and nodded. "Alright. This section is the one that still has some holes in it. Until now the only one we knew about was Blue's Heart aspect that, again, we already had before all this and which allows the merging of bayards in the Voltron form to create other weapons. I've been keeping a list of those, by the way, and it might be a good idea to spend some time training and form Voltron just so we can test and see what the other combinations make. I have some theories about exactly what each bayard contributes to the final results, deriving from the base forms, but I just don't have enough data yet to really--"   
  
"Pidge!" Shiro interrupted gently, offering a smile to take the sting out of the rebuke. "One thing at a time, okay? That is a good idea, but let's just deal with the aspects first. Then later we can see about finding the time to test your theory about the bayards."   
  
Pouting, Pidge nodded and scowled at her screen again. "Fine, fine. Anyway. We have Blue. Marmora's list for this aspect category only included Green and Red, so we're still flying blind on Black and Yellow. Green's is 'rapid repair', which accelerates the damage repair process at the cost of some of Voltron's available energy supplies, and Red's ability is 'energy redistribution.'" The irritation on her face forestalled any questions on the lack of a description of the second ability. "Best guess, those two maybe go hand-in-hand somehow, but if that's the case then it's the first time two aspects were dependent on each other for maximum functionality."   
  
There was a few minutes of quiet discussion, but no one seemed to be able to come up with a more likely scenario, so Pidge was gestured to continue. As she scrolled further down the file the tension in the room seemed to rise slightly in response to what everyone knew was coming.   
  
"Last of the regular categories. Personality traits. We actually already had or knew about all of these already. Blue and Red we know," she faltered slightly, then went on hurriedly without naming either of them. "And Yellow, Green, and Black we have. I think we already have a pretty good idea of how the first two work, but, uh, Shiro, it's possible there might be more to yours than we realized." She glanced up nervously at Shiro, who straightened, his frown deepening. "Marmora's description of it is ' _ amvel esrelta _ '."   
  
Allura jerked upright, eyes wide. "Impossible. Such an ability is only theoretical."   
  
Pidge shrugged helplessly. "That's what it says. What does it mean, anyway?"   
  
"That’s a class of Altean quintessence affinity, isn’t it? I thought there were only three." Alejandro frowned as he struggled to recall the details of that conversation with Malrento. "And I don't think that was one of them."   
  
Coran and Allura exchanged frowns. "That's because it isn't." Allura explained. "The three classes are  _ amvel solta _ , who can only sense quintessence but have no ability to manipulate it themselves,  _ amvel malamya _ , able to manipulate quintessence in minor amounts and limited forms, and  _ amvel nayeta _ , who can manipulate it freely and in large quantities. The  _ amvel malamya _ can only manipulate their own quintessence, which is why their abilities are so limited compared to the  _ amvel nayeta _ who are able to manipulate ambient quintessence in the environment around them."   
  
"And the  _ amvel esrelta _ ?" Keith asked, folding his arms across his chest as his brows furrowed in a frown.   
  
Allura sighed, putting her legs down properly on the couch and smoothing her dress. "The  _ amvel esrelta _ is a purely theoretical being who can manipulate the quintessence of other sapient beings. It's not supposed to be possible--the sheer complexity of our bodies and minds is the reason sapients have multi-coloured quintessence rather than the pure green of animal and plant life. But if such a being were to exist they would be incredibly powerful--and dangerous." She avoided Shiro's gaze.   
  
"...I see." Shiro's voice was soft, and Alejandro saw his metal hand curling into a fist in his lap. "And if, theoretically, one did exist, what might their abilities look like?"  _ What damage might he be capable of doing to the people he cared about? _ The unspoken question hung in the air between them all.   
  
Allura grimaced. "I have no idea. Again, the concept is theoretical, supposedly. The most obvious possibility that comes to mind, however, is that an  _ amvel esrelta _ could possibly divert, disrupt, or otherwise interfere with the quintessence-based attacks of an  _ amvel nayeta _ ."   
  
Alejandro jerked. Disrupt the attacks of an  _ amvel nayeta _ ? Something tickled the back of his brain and he tuned out the continuing discussion around him as he struggled to chase it. Something about disruption, and Shiro, and Haggar...   
  
The pieces clicked and he let out a strangled exclamation. "Haggar's mind control." He blurted out as Shiro and Allura both turned to look at him in confusion. "That's how he broke the mind control."   
  
Allura gasped and Shiro jerked upright, looking down at his arm in shock. "That's..." he hesitated, looking over at Allura. "Does that fit?"   
  
Allura nodded mutely, still looking stunned. "Yes...yes, that would fit. Disruption of her manipulation of quintessence. And if that's the case...if your aspect truly is the abilities of an  _ amvel esrelta _ , then you are probably capable of a great deal that we have yet to uncover."   
  
Shiro exhaled slowly and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he nodded. "Right. Guess I'll have to do some training then, figure out exactly what I can and can't do."   
  
"But not tonight." Matt stated firmly, putting his hand over Shiro's still-clenched fist. "It's late. Pidge, is there anything else that needs to be gone over, or can we call it a night here?"   
  
"Actually..." Pidge cleared her throat awkwardly. "There is one more thing in this section. The metaphysical aspects."   
  
Alejandro stiffened, and felt Kurogane do the same beside him. "There's information on them?"   
  
Pidge grimaced, avoiding his gaze. "Sort of? There's a description, at least, of two of them and how they were used. But it's more than we had before."   
  
Alejandro deflated slightly. So much for understanding exactly how the damn things worked, why they did what they did when Alejandro and Kurogane had used them. His chest ached but he resisted the urge to reach for Blue's soothing touch. Kurogane didn't have that luxury anymore, hadn't in months, and he knew how much the broken bond hurt. He leaned his head against his partner's shoulder instead. "True enough. Go ahead whenever, Pidge."   
  
She shot him a long look, but didn't say anything about his shift in mood, instead turning back to her laptop. "Okay, here's what we've got. 'Blue - used by Fiorin to look forward in time to find a future that met certain parameters. When he came out of it, Fiorin had detailed knowledge of exactly what needed to be done to make that future come into being'--she's got a note here about referring to the choreography file for details on what they did."   
  
"So about what we already knew. And it still doesn't tell us how to activate it at will." Hunk waved a hand. "And Green?"   
  
"'As per Fiorin's instructions, used to create a large quantity of stones for the swords to be used by the Blades of Marmora, as well as the linked emergency signal box. Alfor told me to concentrate on the desire of make a way of protecting my followers even after my death, and to focus on creating the entire system simultaneously.'"    
  
"...That's it?" Keith frowned.   
  
"That's it." Pidge confirmed. "I said there was info, not that it was super helpful."   
  
"At least we know Alfor did know something about how the metaphysical aspects worked." Matt pointed out, flopping back against the couch in annoyance. "And that he didn't tell the others even when he told them to use them."   
  
"I expect he must have had good reason." Coran said, but there was a hint of doubt in his voice that was unsettling to hear. "With any luck, whatever records we are able to locate will answer that question for us as well as all our others."   
  
"Here's hoping." Lance grumbled. "'Looked into the future to figure out how to get to a specific one' and 'pulled swords out of thin air' aren't super helpful description-wise."   
  
"She didn't pull the swords, just the stones." Keith pointed out.   
  
"Close enough, but yeah. Stones, then." Lance shot Keith an awkward smile, but the other's cheeks reddened and he looked away. Lance sighed and his smile fell, and Alejandro patted his shoulder in sympathy.   
  
Kurogane hummed thoughtfully behind him, and Alejandro tipped his head back to see a frown of concentration on his partner's face. "Creation, destruction, chaos, and law. Those were the names of four of the metaphysical aspects, right?"   
  
As if either of them could forget that last, desperate transmission, Holt's voice echoing in the cockpits of their Lions hours, maybe days after those same words had been uttered on the other end of a hyperspace transmission. After it was far too late to save her. "Yeah, that's what she said. You got something?"   
  
"Maybe... from the sound of it, they're in pairs. Opposites. We know that Blue, chaos, is time, so maybe Yellow is...what, space? Time and space?"   
  
"It makes sense. And space is governed by natural laws like gravity, nuclear repulsion, and so on." Hunk offered. Alejandro hadn't even realized he'd been listening.   
  
"So, time manipulation and...space manipulation? What would that look like?" Lance's brows furrowed.   
  
"No idea, that's just what I think it might be." Kurogane shrugged. "It seemed to fit."   
  
"Marmora used the creation aspect to literally create the stones..." Pidge pointed out thoughtfully, her fingers flying over the keyboard. No doubt she was taking notes on the discussion, and writing down theories of her own. "And you said Red basically disintegrated those ships?"   
  
"I don't think the aspects would be that literal." At least, Alejandro hoped they wouldn't. There was something he didn't like about an aspect whose only capability was to destroy, no matter how much it was implicit in the name.   
  
Pidge opened her mouth to argue, then paused and closed it again. "...Yeah, maybe not." She conceded after a long moment. "Too easy, and fuck knows none of this has been easy." She threw up her hands in exasperation and flopped over backwards onto a stray pile of blankets. "God fucking forbid the names of the aspects be straightforward, like the 'sense where people are' aspect or the 'healing hands' aspect!"   
  
"I thought you liked puzzles, Pidge." Alejandro laughed, something in his chest loosening as the tension eased in the room.   
  
"Only ones with logical solutions."   
  
"Fair--" he cut himself off with a yawn. "Fair enough."   
  
Shiro sighed and pushed himself to his feet and started to gather up abandoned dinner dishes. "Either way, we're not going to figure it out by staying up all night arguing about it. Why don't you all get settled and try to get some sleep, and we can focus our energy on looking for answers at Sh'raa H'ressnol tomorrow?"   
  
"Sir, yes sir." Alejandro agreed playfully. Kurogane just snorted and dragged a thick blanket over the pair of them.   
  
Shiro rolled his eyes, but there was a playful smile on his face. "That's 'Yes, Black Paladin, sir' to you, smartass." He shot back. "Come on, all of you, time to sleep."   



	57. Chapter 57

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: References to Keith's struggles of growing up as an undiagnosed autistic in the foster system, particularly responses to 'acting out' or 'making a scene'. Generally proceed with caution in the Keith POV, the worst part of it is from "Keith flushed and nodded" to "Kurogane sighed, shifting over to sit beside him."
> 
> So I get the impression people were expecting...more from the last chapter in regards to the aspects. Sorry guys. I think that's my fault, originally the discussion of the aspects was supposed to be at the end of 55 instead of in a separate chapter but I split it off for various reasons. We will be getting the full reveal of the aspects soon, along with some other surprises, I promise! 
> 
> Also something I forgot to mention in last chapter's notes, if you ever feel like breaking your heart, go listen to One Foot in Front of the Other by Emilie Autumn and imagine it as Alejandro and Kurogane singing in the earliest part of this story.

The Castle of Lions emerged from the wormhole in high orbit over a gleaming pearl of a world. Almost three quarters of the planet were encased in massive polar caps, with only patches of green and blue to be seen in the narrow equatorial region between. The peaks of numerous mountain ranges seemed to sparkle in the light of the system's star, the lower slopes and flatter plains dusted faintly with darker shadows that might have been thin forests seen from on high.

 

"Oh  _ wow _ ." Lance breathed, all but plastered against the forward viewscreens as he tried to take in the gorgeous sight below them. He'd seen a lot of unusual planets over the last year and a bit, but Sh'raa H'ressnol was unexpectedly pretty. Around him, his teammates and the others were echoing his sentiment, equally fascinated by the display. Even Keith's eyes were sparkling at the view, a soft smile on his face, and Lance hastily turned away as he tried to conceal his blush. In doing so, he caught sight of what looked like a thin ribbon trailing upward from the surface, so thin as to be barely visible against the backdrop of the stars, with what looked like a small golden teardrop depending from the end. "Whoa, what is that?" He asked, pointing.

 

"One of the space elevators." Kurogane's voice beside him nearly made him jump, and the other chuckled. "There are three, equally spaced around the equator. Look, you can just see one of the others over there." Following the older man's finger, Lance squinted and looked closely. Sure enough, another was about a third of the way around, all but invisible against a background of grassy mountainside in front of them. They were nearly end-on to that one, and the golden bulb at the end seemed to grow as he watched and the ship began to close the distance to it.

 

As they drew closer and the scale of the object became apparent, Lance's eyes widened in shock. The golden teardrop was a massive space station, tethered to the end of a cable several stories thick. Half a dozen pack ships were docked with it, their colouring disguising their presence until they came close, and there were room for at least a dozen more to slide into position like the petals of a great black flower. Some of them seemed to be under construction, and after a moment's inspection he thought he recognized the Lightning Strike and the Falling Tree among them, finally getting their temporary patch jobs properly repaired. 

 

Then they were sliding past the station and its cable, heading south toward the mountains and ice fields. Malrento, Allura, and Coran were deep in discussion as the Icebringer gave them directions to some point on the globe currently projected in front of them, while behind them a young Altean woman from the Long Wind wore an expression of intense concentration as she rested her hands firmly on the control pillars. One thing that had come up in planning at the Blade base was that Allura's raw talent and power was being wasted at the controls of a support ship, so Malrento and Shiiar'keh had handpicked a roster of skilled Alteans to learn to fly the Castle of Lions from her. The first attempts had been shaky at best (Lance was pretty sure he'd actually managed to get whiplash on a ship with artificial gravity and inertial dampeners), but the current trainee, Laita, had improved rapidly and was being permitted, under close supervision, to bring the ship in to their destination on the Icebringer homeworld.

 

Thin clouds whipped past as the ship began to descend, then high mountains surrounded them. Below, the ground resolved into a flat, icy plain, a large space adjacent to one of the steep ridges thankfully clear of the trees he was just starting to distinguish. Otherwise it was pure unspoiled nature as far as the eye could see.

 

"...No cities or towns?" Pidge sounded puzzled, her head turning this way and that. "What are we doing out here?"

 

Kurogane laughed, shoving his hands in his pockets and scanning the mountains surrounding them with a fond look in his eyes. "Wait and see." He said with a grin that Lance was pretty sure would have been equally at home on Alejandro's face.

 

The ship rocked only slightly, setting down a little more roughly than usual. "Not bad at all for your first landing, Laita!" Coran said warmly, and the young woman flushed with praise as she stepped down from the control columns. "We'll make an expert pilot of you yet! Now then, out we go, all of you!"

 

"Might want to grab a coat." Kurogane called over his shoulder as he disappeared out the door at a jog, Alejandro hot on his heels.

 

"Might want to grab a coat, he says." Lance huffed through chattering teeth a short time later, hugging himself tightly against the cold. "Why is it so cold?!"

 

"We are halfway to the pole here." Hunk offered weakly. His friend looked almost as frozen as he did, despite the winter gear Coran had produced from storage for all of them. It reminded Lance of when he and Keith had gotten stuck in that snow room with the alien bull-thing on the Long Wind, right down to the short, fat trees with their sharp lines of near-black needles, except even colder than that place had been. Well, maybe they just hadn't been able to turn that room cold enough to be the actual arctic.

 

Lance made an aggravated noise, slipping on the ice and clutching at Hunk for support. He was even more annoyed by the fact that his future self and his partner, walking up at the head of the group with Malrento, seemed to move over the ice as easily as if it was just dirt.  _ And  _ they didn't seem to be cold at all, despite not having vacuum-rated paladin armor on under their coats. "Where are we even going? Kurogane said himself there's no cities around here! All I see is rocks, and trees, and snow, and moun--" He cut off abruptly, stumbling to a halt as they came around an outcropping and found themselves face to face with a gaping cave mouth. "...You have  _ got _ to be kidding me."

 

"Hurry up, slowpokes!" Alejandro called back to them, half-hidden in the shadows of the entrance. With a start, Lance realized that they were being left behind by the rest of the group and scowled, slipping and sliding as he dragged Hunk forward to catch up.

 

The chill seemed to lessen once they were in the shelter of the opening. Several steps in was a massive metal panel stretched across the entire cave, with creases in the metal suggesting that doors of various sizes could be opened to accommodate things being moved in or out. Malrento had already opened the smallest panel, about the size of the doors on the Long Wind, and gesturing them to go through. On the other side, they found a large open space with bare stone walls and floors and a row of odd-looking vehicles like little airplanes off to one side, with a second panel on the far end like a giant airlock. And that's basically what it was, Lance realized once he stepped away from the cold air following them through the door. A temperature control airlock. The air in here was already noticeably warmer compared to what they'd experienced outside, even with only one thick layer of metal to protect them.

 

"Can't believe spacefaring aliens are living in caves..." Pidge muttered beside him as they headed across the airlock to the inner door. "What kind of advanced civilization..."

 

Walking beside them, Matt simply laughed. "The H'ress don't believe in being wasteful of resources. Comes from their evolutionary background in a very delicately-balanced ecosystem. So why would they waste precious stone and metal on Human-style buildings when the planet has a perfectly-serviceable cave network they can use instead?" As they stepped through the second door way he gestured beyond it, and Lance found himself stopping short in surprise for the second time in a few minutes, his jaw dropping and his eyes going wide.

 

They were in a vast room, but it no longer felt anything like a cave. Tapestries covered the walls, woven with intricate images depicting scenes that had to be from H'ress history, and maybe other worlds besides. Parts of the room were sectioned off with metal panels, while smaller cave openings led off in a dozen different directions. People, aliens of all species, were coming and going every which way or simply relaxing in the open central space that seemed to function as some sort of huge common room. The whole atmosphere was oddly similar to the marketplaces back in Varadero Beach, with chatter and laughter filling the room over the sound of enough people to populate a small town going about their lives.

 

"Please, make yourselves comfortable." Malrento gestured to the lounge area, scattered with tables and chairs designed for various different body types, as well as soft couches and piles of cushions and things that might have been bean-bag chairs. It was like a larger version of the lounge on the Long Wind. "It will take some vargas for Shiiar'keh and the others from the Long Wind who are returning to this pack to arrive."

 

Lance nodded, and fell in behind Allura as she led the way over to the seating area. Many heads turned toward them, some of the local residents offering them cheerful greetings. It was even more relaxed and informal than the Long Wind had been. But then, that was a frontlines battleship part of the time. This...wasn't.

 

As they made themselves comfortable across various pieces of furniture, he let his attention wander to Matt, who had draped himself across one of the beanbag things with several cushions supporting his left knee and was explaining to Pidge, Ryou, Hunk, and Colleen about Icebringer culture and how a lot of it stemmed from their origins--something about minimizing wastefulness and maximizing cooperation because their original planet had a very delicate ecological balance as well as a highly inhospitable environment and wastefulness could have simply caused a runaway crash of the entire biosphere. Biology was not his strong suit and he felt his eyes glazing over trying to follow the discussion as Matt started talking about evolutionary selection pressures and psychosocial effects.

 

Turning away, he glanced over at Alejandro and Kurogane instead. The pair seemed right at home, having made a sort of nest-like arrangement out of cushions and a low, flat seat where they were now curled up together and talking in low voices. It was strange how natural they looked, surrounded by aliens of all shapes and sizes. But then, that was what they were used to, wasn't it? Lance wasn't even completely sure they spoke English half the time on the Castle--he was pretty sure he'd caught the undertones of H'ress'wr growls or the lilting sounds of Altean under the translated words on more than one occasion. They'd lived among the Icebringers for  _ years. _ A month on the Castleship and a week and a bit on Earth wasn't going to come close to breaking those old habits. Looking around, Lance found himself shivering despite the surprising warmth in the room. It was scary just imagining enduring everything they'd been through.

 

But that was why they were here. So that he wouldn't, so none of them would. Somehow, they had to track down whatever secrets King Alfor and Fiorin had left behind here, ten thousand years ago, and figure out how to use them to take down the Empire. And they needed to do it fast, before they managed to fix the Weblum's Breath and use it to destroy some unsuspecting world or worse, go after Earth again, because Lance had a feeling they would  _ not  _ get that lucky twice. His hand ached with the memories and he winced, pulling off his glove and massaging the scar gently.

 

"Your hand bothering you?" 

 

Jumping, Lance looked over and was surprised to find Keith sitting beside him, knees tucked to his chest in what looked like an oversized armchair with a hole for tails in the back. "Uh, not really." He faltered, unsure of how to act. The two of them hadn't really talked since that awkward conversation in the back of the speeder days earlier. "Just thinking. This place is huge. How are we supposed to find whatever Alfor left behind?"

 

Keith grimaced and nodded in agreement, turning to look around the vast cavern. There had to be several dozen aliens in here at any given time, just in this one 'room', and who knew how vast the cave complex was? And how many caves like this were there on the planet? Enough to justify three separate space elevators just to service the space fleet. "I don't know. It's...a lot to search through."

 

"That's an understatement if I ever heard one." Lance grumbled. He pulled his legs up onto the couch-ish thing he was sitting on and stripped off his outer coat, playing with the fabric of his other glove. The silence between them was awkward and uncomfortable, but he wasn't sure how to break it. Keith had made it pretty plain that he needed time to think about everything that had happened, about Lance's fuck-up and his confession and his own feelings, and Lance sure as hell wasn't going to deny him that. But this distance between them hurt more than he liked to admit, like being back to when they first got into space except  _ worse _ because this time he had no one to blame but himself. And Alejandro had told him to make sure Keith knew Lance still wanted to be around him, regardless of what he chose. So...here went nothing. "I...uh...I don't..." He faltered, swallowed, then forced himself to try again. "Look, uh, I know you're still thinking about things. I get that. Take all the time you need. But...can we...can we still at least be friends? For now? I know I fucked up and what I did was shitty even as a friend, but uh, I...I miss you." The words tumbled out almost before he could stop them and his cheeks flamed red in an instant. He bit down on his tongue to stop himself from apologizing again and potentially making things worse. Why was he so bad at talking to the guy he liked the most?

 

Keith was staring at him in wide-eyed surprise now. "You...miss me?" He asked, and Lance was pretty sure he heard a note of confusion in his voice. ‘He won’t assume you still want to be around him’, Alejandro had said. Lance nodded mutely, his face still burning with the force of his blush. Keith fell silent for a moment, before: "...why?"

 

Lance frowned, his head jerking around to glare at the other teen. "What do you mean, why? I care about you. You're my teammate, and my friend, even without everything else. I miss your snarky comments and your teasing me about being useless in melee. I miss your dumb mullet and your stupid pretty smile and how distracting you are with that sword of yours. I miss the way you always say what you mean, and the way you mess up the Voltron chant and the way you don't always really get the rest of us but you care about us anyway. I miss...I miss  _ you _ . There's no 'why' about missing someone you care about, Keith!"

 

A thick silence fell in the wake of his tirade. Too late, Lance realized that his voice had risen steadily in volume over the course of his impromptu speech, attracting every set of eyes in the vicinity to the pair of them. His face flushed, red creeping down his neck and right to the tips of his ears, and a sick feeling settled into his gut at the panicked expression on Keith's face. He  _ knew _ the other boy hated being the center of attention like this, and now everyone was staring at them. Keith's head swivelled this way and that, taking in the sheer number of people whose attention was on them, before he threw himself to his feet and bolted toward the main door at the front of the cave.

 

Lance groaned and sank down into the cushions, hiding his face in his hands. Now he'd  _ really _ done it. So much for winning Keith's friendship back.

 

________

 

Keith shivered violently, tucking himself further into the small crevice in the rock outcropping in a weak attempt to stay out of the bitingly cold wind. The only good thing about the freezing temperatures was that they'd snapped him out of his panic pretty quickly. But now he was stuck out here, the wind cutting right through his suit and chilling him to the bone, because even the thought of going back in there to all those eyes and everyone looking at him was enough to make him want to throw up.

 

His teeth were chattering so hard he didn't hear the crunch of boots on ice until they were almost on top of him, and as he looked up his vision was abruptly blocked by something soft and warm being thrown over top of him. With a yelp he scrambled to get free and found himself with a thick blanket covered some kind of soft blue-white fur piled on top of him. And in front of him, Kurogane was settling himself down in front of him, a similar blanket wrapped around his own shoulders and looking quite comfortable in the cold despite the thick fog each of his breaths made in the air.

 

After a moment's hesitation, Keith followed his example and wrapped the blanket around himself. It seemed to trap his body heat almost instantly, the chill disappearing everywhere except where he was still exposed to the wind, and he ran a hand over the soft material in amazement. "What is this stuff?"

 

"Ssh'ohl fur." The word rolled easily off Kurogane's tongue as he reached over and bunched the material up a bit more to cover Keith's ears from the cold air before sitting back on his heels. "Warm enough? You forgot your coat and helmet."

 

Keith flushed and nodded, looking away at the uncomfortable reminder of the scene that had happened inside. Lance's yelling and the attention it had attracted was bad enough, but storming out the way he had only made things worse. Experience had shown him that, over and over and over again. He swallowed around a thick lump in his throat. Why couldn't he do anything right?"

 

"Hey." Kurogane's soft voice broke into his train of thought as a hand came to rest overtop of his own where his fingertips were digging into his arm. "It's okay. You didn't do anything wrong."

 

"Made a scene." Keith choked out. Remembered voices, saying those same words, churned at the back of his head. Anger, disappointment, disgust. Telling him needed to learn to think before he acted, to not embarrass them, to grow up and sit down and behave. Even now, he was letting his emotions get away from him. People didn't like it when he did that. He let out a frustrated hiss between his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut and clenching his jaw hard.

 

Kurogane didn't say anything, giving him a moment to get himself back under control. When Keith opened his eyes again, his older self's expression was unreadable, his gaze directed downward to where his hand still rested on Keith's. When he glanced up and saw Keith looking at him, he gave him a small smile. "Yeah. You did. And that's okay."

 

What.

 

Keith gaped at him, unable to process the words. He'd heard them, alright, knew exactly what Kurogane had said, but that didn't mean it made  _ sense _ . Making a scene was bad. It pissed people off, made them stare. It never ended well. Kurogane was supposed to be  _ him _ . He should know that better than anyone. After all, they were the same person. Weren't they?

 

"Yes and no." Kurogane said softly. Keith hadn't even realized he'd said that out loud. "I am you, yeah. Or I used to be. But I'm you with six more years of learning about myself. Of coming to terms with...everything, from the shit that happened when we were growing up, to how I am. I still don't understand people well. I rely on Alejandro for that. I still fuck up social situations that I don't understand. I'm still me. I've just come to terms with it a bit better."

 

The wind howled around them and Keith tugged the fur blanket tighter around himself. "How? Being me has never caused anything but problems." It was what got him passed from one foster home to the next, an endless parade of names and face he didn't even have a chance to learn before they were gone from his life again. It was what got him labelled 'problem child', 'aggressive', 'discipline issues', 'antisocial'. It was what made other kids eye him from a wary distance if he was lucky, and harass and mock him or worse if he wasn't. And the foster guardians...none of them wanted him to be him. They were always quite clear about that.

 

Kurogane sighed, shifting over to sit beside him, giving him the little bit of space he preferred unless he was the one initiating the contact. "We are the way we are, Keith. There are some things we can't change no matter how much we want to, even if it would make our lives easier. But," his lips quirked a bit as he gazed into the distance, "a very wise person once told me that he liked me just the way I am."

 

Something in his words seemed to echo what Lance had said earlier, the way he'd rattled off so many of the things Keith hated about himself and said he missed them and sounded impossibly sincere while doing so. "Alejandro?" He asked, glancing up at his counterpart.

 

The other hummed and nodded. "I don't get it either, for what it's worth." He chuckled. "But he's never judged me, never looked down on me. He's the first to reassure me that it's okay when I screw up, to explain things I don't understand. Lance already does that for you, too, you know."

 

Keith ducked his head. 'I say Vol, you say....?' echoed in the back of his mind. Even back then, when their relationship could have been called rocky at best and outright volatile at worst, Lance hadn't judged him. Instead he'd promised 'we'll work on it'. He couldn't think of a single time, unless he'd mistakenly thought Keith was joking, that Lance had been judgemental or cruel or deliberately unkind. "Yeah. He does."

 

Biting his lip, he looked out over the snow. The Castle of Lions was a distant spire parked well away from the threat of avalanches or rock slides. Lowering his head, he traced a gloved fingertip in the thin layer of snow that covered the ice. "You two are really happy together, huh?" He asked, unable to quite suppress the note of hope from his voice. He liked Lance. Loved him. If another version of him could conquer their fear and let down their walls, then maybe...

 

"We are." The answer came easily, like it was the most natural thing in the world to say. "I love him. I would do anything for him, without hesitation or regret. And he loves me. And I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he would never leave me."

 

The utter confidence in that statement struck Keith like an electric shock. It cut right to the heart of his deepest fears. 

 

"Do you think...you think he really does love me, then?" His voice betrayed the ache of hope and wariness.

 

Kurogane glanced over at him, his purple gaze relaxed and open. There were no secrets here. Kurogane already knew him inside and out. "Did he say he did?"

 

"Yeah." Keith's cheeks burned again in spite of himself, recalling that awkward conversation in the cramped storage area of an Altean speeder. The conflicting hope and fear that had tumbled around inside his chest until it felt like he could hardly breathe. "On the way to Blue's cave. He said he was sorry for rejecting me before, and told me that he loved me back."

 

Kurogane blinked, shooting him a long stare. "Sorry for...I think you should start at the beginning, Keith."

 

Grimacing, Keith nodded. In bits and pieces, he told his older self everything that had happened--Trepan Kev, Pidge's desperate desires, the way they had stuck in his head for days afterwards. Little by little, working up the courage to take that terrifying plunge of vulnerability. Talking to Lance, giving voice to his feelings for the first time only to have them unexpectedly rejected.

 

("He said he was no good for me. All because of that stupid shit that Haggar did to Shiro!"

 

Kurogane groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "Unfortunately, six years hasn't been enough time for him to outgrow that special Lance brand of stupidity. You saw what he did after Lance told the rest of us about the aspect.")

 

It was surprisingly easy to admit to his doubts, how Lance's words had seemed like an excuse to cover up the more painful truth of the fact that he just didn't want Keith. The confession in the speeder had taken him completely by surprise, left him confused and conflicted and unsure.

 

Kurogane listened as he talked, taking everything in. It reminded Keith of himself, listening to one of the others ramble on about this or that, simply taking in their presence and trying to understand. When Keith finished, he sighed, tipping his head back against the rock. "Would you like my thoughts on this mess?"

 

"...Yeah. Please." He just didn't know what to do. Why did feelings have to be so  _ complicated? _

 

"If Lance said he loves you, then he does. He would never lie about something like that, it's just not who he is. And Alejandro liked me all the way back at the Garrison, so the same is true for Lance. You may have gotten things moving earlier than we did--he confessed to me first, and it wasn't for a couple more years--but the feelings are already there. For both of you."

 

Kurogane paused, rearranging the blankets around himself a bit before continuing. "Second thing. You can trust him. I think you already know that, but me saying it too might help. He's all about loyalty and trust, right to the core of him. Mind you, he's not perfect, any more than you or me--he'll make mistakes. So will you. But if you give him a chance to fix things, he will, to the best of his abilities, and you'll be able to move forward from it together. He will never hurt you on purpose, unless he genuinely believes that he's doing it to protect you from something worse."

 

Like how he'd rejected Keith's confession because he believed he'd be a constant reminder of everything Haggar had done to the first real family Keith had ever had. Yeah, that was Lance, alright.

 

Another silence fell. When Keith looked over, Kurogane's face was drawn in a frown of concentration. After a moment he spoke again, but he seemed distracted, as though thinking hard about something even as he talked. "I think, Keith...that if you love him, and he loves you, you should go for it. Maybe it won't work out in the end, because everything's happening differently. Maybe it will, and you'll be as happy with him as I am with Alejandro. But if you don't try, and something happens...you'll spend the rest of your life wishing you had."

 

There was a thickness to his voice that made Keith look away, feeling like an intruder on something he wasn't supposed to hear. His older self had lost so much. How many regrets did he carry? Things he wished he'd said or done while he had the chance, before the people he cared about were ripped away from him? 

 

He gave a small nod, then, after a moment's indecision, leaned over to rest his head against Kurogane's shoulder. "Okay. Thanks." He fiddled with the soft material of the blanket for a moment. "When did you get so good at being a big brother?"

 

Kurogane chuckled, then unexpectedly threw an arm around Keith's shoulders and pulled him closer. "I learned from the best there is."

 

_______

 

Alejandro looked up as Keith and Kurogane returned, shaking the last of the snow off the fur wraps Kurogane had taken out. He resisted the urge to pester his partner about how the talk had gone, since the other seemed to be thinking hard about something, and instead looked back down at the fidget toy Lance had given him a few days earlier while keeping an eye on Keith out of the corner of his eye.

 

As he watched, Keith bit his lip, hesitating for several seconds, then abruptly squared his shoulders and marched over to sit beside Lance, who was hugging his knees to his chest morosely. Alejandro had to strain his ears to hear, but he was pretty sure he heard the awkward teen mutter “I missed you too.” before Lance’s face lit up in an incredulous, beaming grin.

 

Alejandro grinned to himself as well, grabbing Kurogane’s hand and giving it a celebratory squeeze. There was hope for those two yet.


	58. Chapter 58

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: implied references to offscreen sexual abuse of an unnamed background character in the part where Matt is interacting with the prisoners
> 
> This chapter almost ended up taking another week because chapter 61 just DID NOT want to be written. But it's done now, so here we go!
> 
> On an unrelated note, if any of my readers are artists, claims are open for @rainbow-poly-bang on tumblr and we are desperately in need of artists! There are six gorgeous fics waiting for artists and we only have one sign-up so far! Please check it out or take a moment to boost the claims post for your followers:  
> https://rainbow-poly-bang.tumblr.com/post/178459640453/artist-claims-are-open-for-claims-and-sign-ups

The stone floor of the cavern was warm underclaw as Shiiar'keh made their way to the main living area. As much as they loved the Long Wind, there were some things about living planetside that the great pack ships just couldn't imitate, and the specific radiant warmth of the geothermal heating systems was one of them. They always made sure to take the time to appreciate those differences, and enjoy them, on the rare occasions they returned to the planet of their birth, because who knew when they might be back next?

 

It was still quite early in the day, the living cavern all but empty save for a few early risers like themselves. To their surprise, though, two of the Humans had already arrived from the Castle of Lions for the day. Shiro and Matthew were curled up together on one of the biped-designed couches. Moving closer, Shiiar'keh realized that despite their silence, neither of the pair was asleep. If anything, they looked exhausted.

 

"Good trading." They rumbled quietly, moving closer still and keeping their voice low as they arranged their own limbs on one of the wide, flat seats nearby. "You're both here early." 

 

Shiro blinked, seeming to only just register their presence as his hand went still where it had been stroking Matthew's hair. "Couldn't sleep." He muttered after a moment. He must have been even more out of it than he seemed, because after a tick he added "Nightmares."

 

For both of them, it seemed. Matthew's eyes were half-lidded and bloodshot, his head pressed to Shiro's chest. Shiiar'keh frowed and reached out one long arm to tuck a stray tuft of hair back from the young man's face. "My sorrows for yours. I would take them from you if I could." They meant it. In his short time aboard the Long Wind, Matthew had become a much-loved member of the pack, someone to be both protected and respected. And though they had only known Shiro personally for a few decarotations, his obvious love and devotion to Matthew had endeared him instantly, as had his tremendous sacrifice to save the one he loved. They knew the pair were both young by their people's standards, too young for all they had endured, and Shiiar'keh couldn't help admiring their strength and courage even as they desired to protect two who were barely more than cubs themselves.

 

Shiro seemed to pick up on their sincerity, giving a small nod and continuing to card his fingers through Matthew's hair. "I don't think I'd wish either of our nightmares on anyone, but I appreciate the sentiment." He murmured back. His head sagged back tiredly against the arm of the couch, although his hand kept up its rhythmic motion.

 

"You should try to sleep. The others will not be here for some vargas yet. I will see that no one disturbs you." Shiiar'keh offered. Matthew's eyes had drifted shut, but his uneven breathing betrayed that he was not asleep just yet.

 

Biting his lip, Shiro hesitated, clearly reluctant to risk a return to the shadows that plagued his sleep. Shiiar'keh tilted their head thoughtfully for a moment, then breathed deeply and began to sing softly, an old H'ress'wr lullaby that they had learned from their own birth pack as a cub.  _ "The king on the lonely mountain sleeps, beneath his queen, the stars. And peace again will come one day, to all from near to far..." _

 

Shiro let out a grunt of surprise, and Matthew cracked an eye open to look at them before smiling thinly and closing it again as he snuggled deeper into his partner's chest. Shiro's arms wrapped around him, holding him close, as he yawned in spite of himself. Shiiar'keh's voice continued to lilt the words in a soothing rhythm as his eyes slid shut as well and some of the tension slipped away from his body.  _ "The lions roar, the flowers bloom, outside the castle's peak. And the daughter comes again one day, to kiss the king to sleep. The gift her father leaves for her will bring her light and hope, on the day she comes to say goodnight on the lonely mountain slope." _

 

Inch by inch, they watch as Shiro and Matthew finally relaxed into sleep, although they did not cease singing until they were certain the two would not rouse again. Finishing the song, they gave a satisfied hum and reached for their data tablet, making themselves comfortable to keep watch as promised. Nothing would disturb their rest if the pack leader had any say in it, and in the meantime they could continue sorting through the records from the early days of the evacuation and the colonizing of Sh'raa H'ressnol, which so far had yet to yield any hint as to the presence or activities of the late King Alfor and Blue Paladin Fiorin.

 

Engrossed in their work aside from growling an occasional warning at anyone who got too noisy, they didn't realize the rest of the group from the Castle of Lions had arrived for the day to continue the physical search of the caverns until they felt a soft touch to their shoulder. Looking up, they found Matthew's little sister, Katie, standing beside them with a grateful smile on her face. "Thank you." She whispered, glancing at the pair still sleeping soundly on the other couch before her gaze flicked back to them. "I dunno how you managed to get them to sleep, but I'm glad you did."

 

"Old pack leader trick." Shiiar'keh chuckled. "H'ress'wr lullabies will soothe even the most distressed cub or hunter." They shifted over a bit, making room for Katie to sit on the edge of the seat beside them. "War is not easy, but I will always do what I can to care for my pack, whether it is guiding them in battle, or guarding their rest."    
  
Katie gave a small nod, making herself comfortable on the thick cushion. "Thank you. I'm really glad Matt had-- _ has _ \--you guys looking out for him. He doesn't...he's still not really opening up to me, yet, about everything he went through--I guess that's why he and Shiro came over here instead when I heard them wake up in the night." She grimaced. "You probably know more than I do."   
  
"Perhaps, but only because as Pack Leader, I need to know these things. A wounded hunter cannot be sent into a situation that will aggravate the injury, correct?"   
  
Katie sighed, nodding again. "Yeah, I guess that makes sense."   
  
Shiiar'keh ruffled her hair with one hand. "Give him time. When he is ready for you to know, you will know. And in the meantime--"   
  
"Love him and support him? I know." Katie smiled, pushing her glasses up on her face and looking fondly over at the other two. They'd shifted in their sleep, rolling onto their sides so that Matthew was almost hidden from view between Shiro and the back of the couch. It was lucky the one they were on only had a narrow tail-slot in the back, or the younger man would have been in danger of falling through it. Although the protective arms of Shiro, wrapped around him securely, would likely have prevented that regardless. As they watched, Matthew shifted slightly in his sleep, nuzzling up under Shiro's chin. Katie chuckled, her smile widening before she looked back at Shiiar'keh. "Any luck so far with the pack census records?"   
  
"Unfortunately not. If the king and the paladin came aboard any of the fleeing pack ships, it was under false names and identities. No one could have simply snuck aboard the ships or the colony, as they would have been recognized as strangers at once." Shiiar'keh huffed, sliding the tablet over to where Katie could see it more easily.   
  
"Great..." Katie frowned as she studied the information on the screen. "Well, I guess it couldn't have been that easy to pick up their trail. Alfor wouldn't have wanted the information he left disturbed, and as the King of Altea and a Paladin, both he and Fiorin would've been under constant scrutiny if they used their real names and faces. But we know they were here because of Fiorin's message. And we know they must've left some sort of information..."   
  
"Because of Holt." Shiiar'keh finished. Katie gave an uncomfortable nod.   
  
The situation surrounding the time travellers was an odd one. Shiiar'keh had been taken by surprise by the urgent message from Sh'raa H'ressnol, informing them that the planet had been contacted directly by persons unknown, someone who not only knew where the second homeworld was hidden, and could speak the language of its inhabitants, but who professed knowledge of a final aspect of blue quintessence that Malrento had not been able to identify beyond being something that was, according to the records, both immensely powerful, and immensely dangerous. Upon first meeting, though, the pair had turned out to be anything but a danger to the Icebringers. If anything, they were storm-lost cubs, trying their hardest to protect themselves and their family. They had, apparently, spent cycles as part of a full team of Paladins in their original timeline, then further cycles as part of the Long Wind's pack. But over time both paladins and pack had been lost to them, one by one by one.   
  
And the last to be lost, Holt, a version of tiny Katie several cycles older and many losses sharper, had left her two remaining family behind in order to go to Sh'raa H'ressnol in search of something that she had no reason to believe even existed,  _ found _ it, and passed that information on to the others with her dying breath.   
  
Time travel was a strange, and painful, business. Alejandro and Kurogane found themselves constantly surrounded by faces they knew and minds who did not know them, while Katie now found herself trying to duplicate her counterpart's feat with no clues beyond that it was possible. Shiiar'keh did not envy any of them one bit.   
  
"Did they say how long it took her to find the information?" They asked. A timeframe might give them some idea of how cleverly whatever they were looking for had been concealed or disguised, for how long someone of Katie's intelligence had taken to discover it with no prior knowledge at all.   
  
"Um..." Katie frowned, pulling up her wrist computer and flicking through several sets of notes until she found the file she was looking for. "A couple months. So somewhere around six decarotations, give or take a bit."   
  
"And she was searching alone, while we have many hands to put to the task." Shiiar'keh hummed thoughtfully. "Even so, we have only been looking for two rotations. I'm sure it will surface soon."   
  
Katie grimaced, swinging her legs back and forth off the edge of the seat. "Yeah, but Allura wants to start running missions again tomorrow, once more of the ships are back online. There'll be a lot less time to devote to the search. I mean, I know whittling down the Empire and freeing prisoners is more important--believe me, I do," she said fervently with another long look at her brother. "But shouldn't we be making whatever information Alfor left behind the priority?"   
  
"You're not wrong, Pidge." A new voice entered the discussion, Allura seating herself daintily on an empty chair on Shiiar'keh's other side. "Which is why we'll be focusing on low-risk targets until we find it. It will minimize the time spent away from here, so we can locate the information as quickly as possible."   
  
Shiiar'keh gave the Princess a nod of approval. "A wise use of resources. And even while we are absent, there are those who can continue to search the records on our behalf. I'm sure we'll find a hint somewhere--perhaps an anomalous use of resources towards an unused living space, or a missing computer bank. There must be a way to locate the cache. It's only a matter of finding it."   
  
Katie nodded, pushing herself to her feet. "Maybe I'll go talk to Alejandro and Kurogane some more. See if I can't channel his timeline's version of me and follow her train of thought to solve this." She paused by the couch, brushing some hair out of her brother's face, before disappearing in the direction of the eating room.   
  
"Good hunting, Katie." Shiiar'keh called after her. They sighed, pulling their tablet back and closing off some more files that had failed to produce any useful information. Resource usage records would be the next place to try, they knew, and quickly typed out a message to that effect before sending it off to the other pack leaders both planetside and shipside. Every pack was contributing manpower and resources to the search without reservation. The news that the last king of Altea and one of the last Paladins had been part of the colony in secret had come as a shock, and while the pack leaders simply wanted answers as to the choices the king had made, the revelation had met with very mixed receptions among the rest of the pack members.   
  
Speaking of... "Princess. Any luck with your own search?" They asked courteously, watching her reaction. The young woman had been dealt several unexpected shocks over the last few rotations. It would be foolish to think she was truly as emotionally composed as she appeared, and just because she was not part of their pack didn't mean Shiiar'keh couldn't keep an eye out for her.   
  
Allura sighed, shaking her head wearily. "We already ran into this problem when Kurogane and Alejandro first arrived and I tried to look for information about the other aspects. There was...an incident..." she flinched imperceptibly, "and a large percentage of the Castle's records were corrupted beyond repair. If there's any clue to the whereabouts of my father's legacy, we won't be retrieving it from there."   
  
"Pity. But we'll manage. Holt didn't have access to those records either, from what I've been given to understand." Shiiar'keh told her firmly. "How are you liking it here on Sh'raa H'ressnol?"   
  
She chuckled, her posture easing somewhat as she looked around the living cavern. It was starting to fill now, people moving about on their day's tasks, although most still kept their voices soft out of respect for those who were not quite awake. "Cold. Like H'ressnol was, when I visited with my parents when I was younger. But the pack caverns felt cozy like this there, as well, even if the decor was rather different.”   
  
"I didn't realize you had visited H'ressnol." They blinked, a note of amazement slipping into their voice. It was easy to forget, sometimes, that this was the same Princess Allura who had been daughter to the Last King, that she had walked the surface of planets as they had been before the advent of the Galra Empire before spending ten thousand years in a dreamless sleep. The first home of the Hunters was the stuff of history lessons and ancient records to Shiiar'keh, a place to be remembered and honoured, but not something they had ever felt truly connected to. But she had walked the ice sheets and caverns of that world, all that time ago.   
  
"Once." Allura recrossed her ankles, studying the furniture and the tapestries that insulated the walls. "Before...before my mother died. There was a healer they wished to consult to see if there was anything that could be done." She exhaled slowly, folding her hands in her lap. "There wasn't."   
  
"My sorrow for yours." Shiiar'keh murmured.    
  
Allura simply shook her head. "It's in the past. We have other concerns right now. Finding whatever information my father may have left for us, and using it to bring an end to the Empire once and for all.”

 

“Easier promised than hunted. They covered their tracks well.”

 

“Alfor would have left some sort of clue, I know it. Coran is reviewing his memories of the last few days before he and the apprentices left with the Lions, in case he said something intended to point us in the right direction.”

 

“And expected him to recall it cycles later?” Shiiar’keh swatted their tail doubtfully. “And again, it is knowledge Holt never had. There must be something here, on Sh’raa H’ressnol, that will guide us.”

 

Allura grimaced, but nodded. “I know, I just can’t even begin to guess what it might be. How do you leave a clue that only certain people will understand, while ensuring it will survive for ten thousand cycles? It seems impossible.”

 

“But.” Shiiar’keh sighed, closing their eyes in thought. The Princess raised an excellent point. What hint could lie untranslated for all that time while never being lost? “We know it has been done.”

 

_______

 

_ “All teams in position and ready?” _ Shiro’s voice crackled in Matt’s ear.

 

_ “Defense one is ready to go, Shiro.” _ Keith’s voice answered back.

 

_ “Defense two also ready to depart.” _ Came the bubbling voice of Weximar from her tank on her fighter craft.

 

_ “Interior one ready.” _

 

_ “Interior two all set to go!” _

 

_ “Support one, all systems go. _ ” Shiiar’keh’s voice was calm and steady on the command deck of the Long Wind.

 

_ “...Support two ready, I think.” _ Alia, the most successful of Allura’s trainee pilots, sounded anything but ready. But then, Matt couldn’t blame her. She was about to be piloting the Castle of Lions in battle for the first time.

 

_ “Recovery one, ready to drop.” _

 

Matt cleared his throat and breathed deeply. “Recovery two, ready when you are.” he called, tightening his grip on the handhold beside him. The Icebringer shuttle’s main bay was lined with figures in blue-and-orange armor, all of them armed and ready.

 

_ “Alright. Time to go! H’ress’wr!” _

 

The com channel surged with noise as the forces ready to go into battle echoed Shiro’s (slightly mangled, but he was getting there) hunting cry, Matt adding his own snarl to the cacophony. Then the ship’s engines surged with power and he felt the slight shift as the inertial dampeners kicked in to counter their acceleration.

 

The chatter on the coms fluctuated for a few moments, voices cutting out as ships passed into their designated wormholes, then some of them returning as the shuttle passed through as well while others remained silent, their destination elsewhere. The glow of the portal cleared from the viewing panel in the wall of the bay and Matt’s grip tightened on the handhold as he caught sight of their quarry.

 

Orbiting a pale blue gas giant, the factory satellite didn’t look like anything much. No heavy defenses, no protective cordon of Empire warships to stop the team of Icebringer fighters diving toward it. Why would there be? All that was made here was chest armor for sentry robots.

 

Half the sentry chest armor in the Empire was made here, in fact. And the other half was made  in a second factory a dozen galaxies away, which by would now be finding itself under attack by the Lions of Voltron and the rest of assault team one.

 

_ “Defenses offline.” _ Weximar reported as her squad made short work of the defensive weaponry and the few fighters that had managed to launch before the Icebringers strafed the main hangar and put a stop to it.  _ “Interior and recovery teams, your turn.” _

 

_ “Got it, Interior heading in!” _

 

“Recovery is right behind you.” Matt called, signalling the pilot of the shuttle with his free hand. The view spun to open stars as the shuttle dove towards the satellite on the tail of several others, and then gave way to metal as they entered one of the secondary hangars. Gunfire could be heard outside the ship, the Interior team already getting to work. Their job would be to wipe out the sentries actively defending the base and round up the handful of live soldiers that non-suspect Blade intelligence told them would be overseeing the plant. A small subset of that group would also be in charge of hacking the database for any useful information it might contain, although there wasn’t likely to be much.

 

A bang on the shuttle hatch was the signal that the hangar was clear. “That’s our cue, let’s move.” Matt ordered, swinging up onto  Hwrek’shaa’kel ’s back. “Let’s make this fast.”

 

While the Interior team cleared the soldiers and sentries, Matt’s Recovery team had their own job to do. Any Empire facility of size, even an automated factory, would have a handful of prisoners on site to serve as menial labour. Cooking, cleaning, and often more unsavoury tasks were always done more easily by true intelligence than by robots. And it was Matt’s team’s job to get them out.

 

They made good time through the halls, the Hunters accompanying the team making short work of the few sentries they encountered. Before they knew it they’d reached the cells and Romad was breaking the locks with the ease of long practice.

 

Matt dropped back to the floor and pushed open the first cell door as Romad moved on. Three prisoners huddled inside, a Bytor and two fox-like beings called Tashkas. One of the Tashka was wheezing, their eyes glazed, obviously sick, and Matt’s breathing hitched for a moment. In the back of his mind, claws grabbed his arms and a voice pleaded  _ no no, please, just leave him alone, please, don’t-- _

 

He yanked himself forcibly from the memory before it could draw him too deep, sucking in air and digging his nails into his palms to ground himself. He needed to focus on the task at hand.

 

“Hey, it’s alright, we’re here to get you out. Okay?” He told them, keeping his tone gentle as he moved into the cell and knelt to examine them. Thin, bruised, but not in too bad shape as far as he could see. The two healthy ones would be able to leave under their own power. The sick one… “I need one to assist here!” He called over his shoulder. Almost instantly one of his team, a sturdy Balmeran, was stepping through the door and lifting the sickly Tashka into his arms. “Thanks, Nor.” He clapped him on the shoulder as he left before turning his attention back to the other two. “Come on, we need to get moving.”

 

He guided them out into a hallway now crowded with rescuers and rescuees, counting three others being assisted besides the Tashka in Nor’s arms. “All prisoners accounted for?” He asked  Hwrek’shaa’kel as he returned to their side.

 

“No.” The H’ress flexed their claws angrily. “It is the middle of the night cycle, they should all have been in their cells according to the intelligence. But one was taken by an officer just before the end of the work shift.” They nodded toward a small cluster of slender lizard-like aliens, Rynxems, huddling together anxiously as their huge ears flicked around to assess their surroundings.

 

Matt swore as he tapped his communicator. He knew all too well what that meant. Abuse of power was an unfortunate universal truth, one that he’d seen both time and again, and up close and personal. “Interior, this is Recovery. Be careful doing your round-up, we’re short a prisoner, a Rynxem. They’re probably in the officer’s quarters somewhere.”

 

There was a brief pause before his earpiece crackled with Halneikas’s furious growl, their tone echoing Matt’s own suppressed fury.  _ “Copy that, Recovery. We’ll find them.” _

 

“Thanks, Interior. Good hunting.”

 

_ “Good hunting, Recovery.” _

 

Casting one last glance over his team to make sure everyone was organized, Matt pulled himself back onto his partner’s back. There was nothing more he could do for the missing prisoner until Interior found them and brought them out. “Everyone stay close, prisoners in the center.” He ordered. “Let’s move.”

 

The return trip to the shuttle was slower, the prisoners too weak to cover the distance as quickly as the Icebringers had, but the hackers with the Interior team had already done their work and they met no more resistance from the sentries. By the time they reached the hangar the Interior team was already prodding the captured Empire soldiers, bleeding and snarling, into a small pod. It had been decided in the planning stages of the mission that they could afford to be merciful on this mission--the captured Galra, disgraced by their failure, wouldn't dare return to the Empire, but they’d be allowed to leave with their lives. They would find a medical kit and a generous supply of rations aboard the little ship, and once the resistance forces were safely away, where they went would be up to them.

 

Two medics broke away from Matt's group to join the shuttles that had carried the Interior team, ready to help anyone from that group who might have been injured in the fight, while the others closed ranks to help the rescued prisoners aboard their own vessel. A blanket-wrapped form in the corner showed that the missing prisoner had also been recovered, and Matt smiled sadly as the other Rynxem immediately clustered around her in comfort.

 

_ "Recovery, Interior, what's your status?" _ Shiiar'keh's voice rumbled in his ear.

 

_ "Just finishing up here, pack leader." _ Halneikas responded cheerfully.

 

"Loading up and strapping in, we'll be ready to launch in thirty ticks." Matt estimated, surveying his group as the others settled their passengers and two sealed the hatch for launch.

 

_ "Be swift, group one is nearly finished and will be joining us shortly." _

 

"Understood."

 

Today's mission was multipurpose. While the chest armor wasn't exactly a critical component of the sentry robots, it did protect their vital systems. The Empire would be forced to halt production of the assembled bots until new factories could be built to supply the missing protective plating. For a while, at least, their supply of sentries would become a finite resource, and every one brought down would be one less available to protect Empire bases.

 

The other purpose...

 

The shuttle launched with a roar of thrusters and he grabbed onto the closest handholds, metal walls giving way to starlight outside the viewing ports just in time for Matt to see the glowing blue maw of a wormhole split open the void some distance away. It shimmered for a moment, stabilizing, before Voltron burst free from its surface.

 

He ignored the awed murmurs behind him, taking a moment to study the great machine. Usually he was too busy to get the chance to see it in action, and now that he did he couldn't help but be amazed by the craftsmanship, the complexity, the raw power of this masterwork of ancient Altea.

 

From the left arm, a curving tongue of flame dangled, shifting and curling in response to the arm's movements. He distantly heard Takashi's voice confirming that all the Icebringer ships were clear before the burning thread vanished in a shower of quintessence. There was a pause, the Paladins likely conferring on their next combination of bayards. Because what better time to test some of them out than against a vulnerable target when they had all the time in the world?

 

A decision apparently reached, quintessence began to form again, a large boxy shape appearing on the back of the Green Lion. Another pause, to figure out the controls of the new weapon, before--

 

A dozen thin lines burst from the box like the rays of a sunburst through a cloud. At this distance Matt couldn't see whether they were cables or chains, but he saw the damage they did, punching through the outer hull of the space station like a hot knife into soft butter. He frowned, studying them. Something intended to incapacitate a facility by venting atmosphere? Then why didn't the wires retract?

 

A moment later, he got his answer. Green lightning burst from the box at the base, blinding arcs racing up the wires in an instant to surge through the entire facility. Matt swore, covering his eyes and trying to blink away the spots in his vision. "Jesus, warn people, will ya, Defense One?" He grumbled into his communicator.

 

_ "Sorry, Recovery Two _ ." Takashi's voice responded, not sounding terribly sorry at all even as some of the others who'd been watching the display added their own complaints.  _ "Surprised us, too. Stand by, we're gonna try something else." _

 

Fair enough. Fried systems could be replaced and breached bulkheads patched. They needed to totally destroy the factory, not just damage it. Matt blinked away the last spots and waited.

 

The wires vanished, the quintessence shifting to another form almost at once. Something more solid, clutched in the right hand this time. A spiked ball on the end of a long chain, scaled up for a giant's hold.

 

Voltron raced forward, swinging the morning star full force at the side of the station and the hull crumpled like tissue paper under the blow, the spikes tearing chunks of metal free to spin away through space. Each blow gouged more chunks of the factory away, rapidly reducing it to a dispersing field of debris. Barbaric, but unquestionably effective.

 

As Voltron disassembled, its work done, Matt forced himself to turn away from the window and back towards the people they'd rescued. Destruction was only one small part of the job of the resistance. His job, meanwhile, was healing. By the time they docked with the Long Wind, he needed to know exactly what medical care was needed for each of the twenty or so former prisoners in their care. He may not have been able to heal all their scars, he knew, his eyes drifting over the huddled groups, the wide, nervous eyes, but he would damn well heal all the ones he could.


	59. Chapter 59

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: brief mentions of blood and traumatic injury. Proceed with caution in the part where Lance is talking about his nightmare.
> 
> WE HAVE COVER ART!!! The phenomenally talented Confused-Bird has created an absolutely gorgeous cover for this story, which I'll be adding to the first chapter after this. Please go give them all the love for their hard work on this lovely gift!  
> https://vldaspect.tumblr.com/post/178710976555/ahhhh-tla-now-has-cover-art-this-piece-was-a

A shuttle roared through the sky, climbing steadily toward orbit and the interstellar transfer stations waiting invisibly beyond the planet's atmosphere.

 

Below it, city streets teemed with life, ordinary beings going about their days. The weather was clear and calm, their lives peaceful despite the loose overlordship of the Galra Empire that surrounded them. The planet's usefulness to the Empire was minimal, and aside from occasional labour drafts, they were largely left to their own devices provided they behaved.

 

On a rooftop, a metal hemisphere about a foot across sat silently.

 

Across town, a clock struck the eighth varga. A seam appeared on the surface of the hemisphere as it slid silently open.

 

_______

 

"--And then she just flipped him right over her head into the wall! It was the best thing I've ever seen!" Krolvesk exclaimed, to the appreciative roars and laughter of his listeners. "You should've seen the look on the idiot's face!"

 

Allura's cheeks glowed with the force of her blush, but she couldn't keep the pleased smile off her face at the praise. "Krolvesk, please. All I did was exercise a basic self-defense technique. It really wasn't that dramatic."

 

The Icebringer Galra raised an eyebrow at her. "Princess, he took you hostage, held a knife to your throat while spouting lines like a bad movie villain, and you just went 'Excuse me, I don't believe I gave you permission to touch me,' before beating the shol'k'ar out of him! I'm going to be telling this one for cycles!"

 

Alejandro snorted and choked on his water pack. "Oh my god, Allura, you actually said that?"

 

"It was an impulse." She admitted, hiding her face in one hand in embarrassment. "I've been roped into one too many movie nights with you all, I think." No matter how much she enjoyed the ones in the 'action' genre, as Pidge called it. There was something immensely satisfying about seeing villains get their comeuppance. "They're a terrible influence. I shouldn't be delivering dramatic one-liners in the middle of a serious mission."

 

"Hey, if you're kicking ass, you can do what you want. I take it you've been doing well, then."

 

Allura nodded, flexing her wrists thoughtfully and looking around the main cavern belonging to the Kral'nai's Mountain Pack, currently crowded with people unwinding after another successful mission, their third in as many rotations. "So I've been told. I'll admit, it's nice to be able to contribute more directly, to actively assist with rescuing prisoners of the Galra Empire and putting a stop to their tyranny, in a way beyond simply providing support from the Castle of Lions and wormholes for transportation."

 

Now that they had other people learning to fly the Castle, Shiro had suggested that these easy missions would be a good time for Allura to finally get some practice using her quintessence manipulation abilities in the field, rather than in the training rooms or in sparring matches. She'd been surprised and found herself unexpectedly hesitant, but Malrento confidently informed her that she was more than ready, her skills naturally powerful and with a natural talent. And so she'd been assigned to one of the Interior teams, fighting her way through sentry robots and helping to capture Empire soldiers for later release.

 

Now, three missions later, her teammates seemed...impressed, although she wasn't sure why.

 

Voicing that thought to Alejandro, he laughed softly. "They have reason to be. Remember, I was on your team today. You're good at what you do, Allura, believe in yourself."

 

Frowning, she twisted a lock of hair between her fingers. "I...suppose you would know, wouldn't you." She admitted.

 

"Mhm. Remember, I've seen you do this before, too." He held up two fingers, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, and she startled slightly at the reminder. 

 

The two time-travellers didn't often discuss their old companions, which she could hardly blame them for after the losses they'd endured. But at the subtle reference, she couldn't help her curiosity. "Altea...she had longer to learn than I've had. Do you think I'll be able to measure up?" Would she be able to protect herself, when her counterpart hadn't?

 

Alejandro blinked at the question, his expression becoming more serious as he regarded her steadily. "Allura...you're already doing better than she was.  _ Trust _ me, you'll do fine."

 

Now that she hadn't expected. "Better? But..."

 

"Altea didn't have a chance to be fully trained by Malrento. He'd barely gone over the basics with her when he was killed on a mission." His words were blunt, but she could hear the pain in them as he looked down at the floor, avoiding her gaze. "The rest of her training was under one of his senior students. That late in the war, with the way things were going...there just weren't enough skilled warriors to go around, to spare one for teaching anymore. Not to mention she didn't have enough time to devote to her training the way you do, not when the Lions were the fleet's first and strongest line of defense, and with the way they kept hounding us..."

 

He was defending his teammate, she realized too late. He'd misunderstood her surprise and confusion for disappointment in the version of herself with whom he had fought. Hastily she put a hand on his shoulder. "Of course. That makes a great deal of sense, and it's a pity she was spread so thin." She smiled softly, trying to reassure him. "I hope to do her memory proud, then, show the universe what she--and I--are capable of."

 

Lifting his head, Alejandro gave her a searching look, and she met it with as steady a gaze as she could manage. Training or no training, Altea had fought her hardest to protect her team, her family. Allura would do the same, with every skill she had available to her. Her determination must have showed in her face, because after a moment Alejandro smiled. "Give 'em hell, Princess."

 

_______

 

"So? What's the verdict?" Shiro asked, leaning over the back of the couch where Hunk was inputting the data from the bayard combinations they'd tested on that day's mission while Pidge dictated measurements and statistics from her wrist computer about the specific functionality of the weapons. "We have a pretty good idea now on how the bayard merge forms work?"

 

Hunk grinned without looking up or slowing the pace of his fingers across the keyboard. "Sure do. I was right, there's a pattern. I mean, I had a pretty good idea of what the pattern was, but the tests we've been doing the last couple days just confirmed it. Each bayard contributes specific things to the end result, and the contributions are derived from the base form." He noticed Shiro's puzzled expression and held up one hand, ticking off one finger at a time. "Look, Lance's bayard is a rifle, right? Pretty much every combination we use it for ends up with a result that has a projectile component."

 

"Oh! Right, that makes sense." Shiro moved around the end of the couch to sit down beside him. "And Keith's bayard results in either melee weapons or a bladed component, if I recall correctly?"

 

"Exactly. Put them together and you get something like the bow and arrows from today's test." Hunk paused to jot that down in the red/blue slot in his list. That one he'd actually predicted, and it was an incredibly satisfying feeling knowing that he'd guessed correctly based on their research so far.

 

Humming, Shiro nodded. "Okay. And Pidge's bayard?"

 

"A flexibility component." Pidge put in without looking up from her laptop and wrist computer. "Chains, cables, wires, grappling hooks--even the burning whip from the first day's mission."

 

"Right, okay. But Hunk, your bayard is also a projectile weapon. How does that work?"

 

"I wondered about that too, at first." Hunk admitted, jotting down the burning whip in the green/yellow/black spot. "Pidge figured it out before I did. Lance's bayard is a rifle, but mine's a cannon. Instead of contributing directly to form, like the others, mine increases the power magnitude of the combination. That's how we went from bow and arrows to a crossbow, or from the blue-and-green harpoon combination to the--what did you call them, Pidge?"

 

"Spikewire cluster."

 

"Right, that." He marked it down. Little by little, they were filling in the gaps on their list. "Which is a little bit of a problem, unfortunately." Hunk huffed, blowing his bangs out of his face.

 

Shiro winced. "The control placements?" He asked.

 

Hunk nodded, grimacing. They were still trying to work out a reliable way of predicting which cockpit the controls for the combined weapons would end up in. So far, it usually seemed to be the lion whose base bayard form was most similar to the combined form in question--any bladed melee weapon usually ended up in Red, wires and cables in green, and the lighter projectile weapons in blue. Unfortunately, that meant that Yellow usually got the heavier projectiles, like the grenade launcher and the energy bolts. And, as they'd discovered during the battle for Earth, he just wasn't able to split his focus effectively between making use of those weapons and keeping an eye on the battlefield with his BLIP sense. Focus on the former, and people might die because he didn't warn them of an incoming threat. Focus on the latter, and that left them without some of their most powerful weapon combinations. Hunk clenched his fists in his lap, frustrated just thinking about it.

 

"Hey." A hand on his shoulder brought his head back up and he let out a slow breath. "You don't need to feel guilty over that, okay? We got this far without those weapons in our arsenal, we can do without going forward, too. Your BLIP sense is more important overall. But," Shiro added, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Don't be afraid to tell us if it's too much for you. I can't imagine it's easy."

 

"...No, it isn't." Hunk admitted quietly. He heard the rattle of Pidge's keyboard stop, then felt his arm being moved as she tucked herself against his side in a partial hug. "I can feel it when they die, and I don't like it. But more of them will die if I don't, right? So I can't just...I have to help."

 

Shiro sighed, putting his own arm around Hunk's shoulders. "I know you feel that way, and I want you to know I'm proud of you for it. But don't be afraid to lean on us, okay?"

 

Hunk nodded and changed the subject. Even with Shiro's reassurance, he didn't want to admit just how much it bothered him, how many times he'd had nightmares lately about being surrounded by little sparks of life and feeling them go out one by one by one and not being able to do anything about it. It was just anxiety and paranoia playing games with his head, anyway. "Right, anyway, then there's the black bayard. That one's an odd one. Pidge?"

 

She straightened, grabbing her laptop again. "Uh, right. That one...as far as we can tell, the energy shield base form usually translates to an elemental component in the final combination, derived from which other bayards are involved. The electrified spike wires, the burning sword, the ice needle gun you said was called a strakkaker...those were all black bayard combinations. But we can't figure out how to predict which element a combination will have when there are three or more bayards involved. Sometimes it's the dominant bayard in the physical form--again, the electrified spike wires--but sometimes it's the least dominant, like the burning whip." She threw up her hands in a frustrated gesture. "We just don't know. Only commonality is it seems to be fire, ice, or electricity, so far, probably because those are the ones that actually contribute shape to the base form and the yellow bayard doesn't."

 

"Hence why black and yellow together make a grenade launcher." Hunk pointed out. Pidge had had more than a few disgusted comments to make about that one and irregularities in the theory, at least until he'd pointed out that it might just be the bayard combination table's equivalent of the lanthanide series so at least there was a precedent. "Rather than something earth-based."

 

"I see..." Shiro mulled that over thoughtfully. "You guys have done a great job on this. Nice work!"

 

Hunk blushed at the praise and offered him a thumbs up. "Thanks, Shiro. We're just about done with this for the day, is there anything we can do to help with the search for Alfor's records?"

 

It was Shiro's turn to sigh, running a hand through his hair. "I don't know. We've been exhausting our avenues of research pretty quickly, and no luck. Nothing in the passenger manifests from the original ships, no anomalous rooms or carvings in any of the the Pack caves anywhere on the planet or any other caves on record so far as a physical search has turned up, and nothing weird in any of the resource usage records that couldn't be explained away as something else. We're stumped."

 

Pidge tapped a finger against her lips thoughtfully. "Huh. Those are all the first places I can think of to look, unfortunately. We know there has to be something, the trick is figuring out how to find it."

 

Hunk frowned. Something about that plan of attack didn't seem to feel quite right. "Maybe we're going about this wrong. We know there has to be some kind of cache of information somewhere, right? But Holt didn't. She was looking for information that could help what was left of her team in some way..." He paused. "Do the Icebringers have records on things like quintessence manipulation and combat strategy? Maybe something was added to a file somewhere."

 

"No, that doesn't make sense." Pidge interrupted, holding up a finger before Shiro could say anything. "I thought of that too, but there's a problem with that logic. Alfor and Fiorin couldn't have known who would come looking for the information, when, or why--they didn't look any further into the future than when they thought we'd won, remember?" Hunk winced and nodded, and she continued. "They might have assumed the war would be over by then, so why would whoever came go digging through files on tactics? Wherever the clues are, they must be somewhere more...generic, for lack of a better word."

 

"Yeah, but where? It can't be somewhere too obvious or it would've been discovered a long time ago, or lost, or something." Hunk tugged at his bangs in irritation. "Man, remind me to tell Coran his husband is a sneaky bastard. Don't suppose he's having any more luck figuring out Alfor's twisty thinking?"

 

"Not that I'm aware of." Shiro seemed to be trying not to laugh, then abruptly sobered. "Honestly, I think he's still kind of rattled by the fact that Alfor kept all this from him. I get the impression they didn't have a lot of secrets between them, as far as Coran was aware, so even though we know why Alfor hid the whole targeted-future plan from him, he's still a bit..." He trailed off and gestured helplessly with his free arm.

 

"Yeah...hopefully once we find this information, it'll clear things up and he'll have some closure." Hunk sighed, setting his tablet down in his lap. "Pidge has a good point about the tactics files, I guess. Nevermind that idea."

 

"No, we'll check anyway. It's a possibility we haven't tried yet. I'll talk to Shiiar'keh and we'll start having people reviewing any digital archives that go back that far, in case of a hidden message in one of them." Shiro pushed himself to his feet and stretched. "In the meantime, you two might as well relax for a bit. Maybe go see what Keith and Lance are up to." He offered the two of them a mischievous grin.

 

Hunk blinked, then lit up at the implication. "Oh man, they're finally talking again?"

 

"Go see for yourself."

 

______

 

"Ahhh! Keith! Save me!" Lance yelled dramatically, waving an arm in the air as he started to disappear under a pile of shrieking children.

 

"Sorry, no can do." Keith gestured to the two small Galra cubs curled up in his lap. "You wouldn't want me to wake these guys, would you?"

 

Lance responded with a theatrical choking noise and disappeared completely, only to burst up moments later roaring and swinging a delightedly-screaming child in each elbow.

 

Being volunteered ('voluntold', Lance had called it with a pout) for nursery duty again to free up locals for an exhaustive search of the cave system was once again turning out to be not that bad. Lance certainly seemed to be having a good time, easily matching the boundless energy of their temporary charges, and with so many to look after they were both too busy to be awkward around each other the way they had been since they'd finally started talking again. Instead, Keith found himself feeling unexpectedly comfortable in Lance's presence, more relaxed than he had been in ages.

 

He stroked the hair of one of the kids in his lap, drawing a contented purr, unable to keep the smile off his face as he watched Lance and the rest of the kids chase each other back and forth across the room, the other teen pausing occasionally to scoop one of them up and wrestle with them. He was so good with them, always making sure no one was left out, even the shy or awkward ones hanging back at the fringes of the room. Lance seemed to have an instinctive gift for children of any species, always able to tell what they needed to feel comfortable and welcomed. Being an older brother came naturally to him, and he'd probably make a great parent someday, good enough to make up for even Keith's shortcomings.

 

Keith's cheeks burned abruptly and he shook his head, trying to get rid of that thought. Talk about getting ahead of himself. They weren't even a couple! No matter how much Keith wanted to be. Lance had said he liked him, and Kurogane had said Keith could trust Lance with his heart, and yet...the doubts stayed rooted deep in his mind, whispering to him, and tying his tongue whenever he tried to work up the courage to try again. Telling him that no one would truly want him, no matter how much he wished it so.

 

Someone poked his cheek and he yelped, startled out of his thoughts, nearly dumping the cubs onto the floor with the violence of his flinch. Beside him, Pidge lurched back in surprise, eyes wide. "Whoa! Sorry! Didn't mean to scare you that bad!"

 

“I-It’s fine. You just startled me.” Keith took a deep breath and looked down at the little kids who were staring up at him in confusion. “Sorry, guys, didn’t mean to wake you up.”

 

One of the cubs seemed mollified by the apology, yawning and exposing tiny white fangs before closing her eyes and resuming her interrupted nap. The other, apparently deciding she’d slept long enough, stretched and flicked her tail, then scaled up his arm to peer around from the vantage point of his head.

 

Pidge muffled a laugh in her hand. “Man, they really like you, huh?”

 

“...Just a bit.” Keith said awkwardly, trying very hard not to move for fear of dislodging the kid’s precarious balance on the collar of his armor, despite the fact that she was using his hair as a handhold and kept tugging painfully on his scalp as she moved around. “I have no idea why.” The cub was now trying to pull herself up onto the top of his head and he winced. “ _ Help _ , please.”

 

“Now why ever would I do that?” Pidge shot back in a sing-song voice. She had opened up her wrist computer and was--

 

“Are you  _ filming _ this?!”

 

There was an exasperated sigh behind him before the cub was suddenly lifted off his head with a squawk of protest and one last vicious tug at his hair. “Pidge, be nice.” Hunk scolded, setting the little one down and shooing her in the general direction of the toy chest.

 

Pidge pouted, shutting down her computer. “I would’ve helped in a moment. It was cute!” She paused, then a devilish grin spread across her face. “Bet Lance would’ve thought so too.”

 

Keith choked and fought to suppress the blush he knew for a fact was rising up on his face. "I don't see what that's got to do with anything." He muttered. "What are you guys even doing here?"

 

She simply hummed, letting the lie slide. "Well, we finished our analysis of the bayard forms we've tested over the last couple days, and apparently the search for Alfor's information is at a standstill at the moment. So Shiro told us to go hang out with you guys. Having fun with the kiddos?"

 

"Lance is. I'm...not the best with kids." Keith admitted. Most of the kids he'd been around growing up had been foster children like himself, wary or aggressive or traumatized, and he'd never been around any of them long enough to form close bonds with the few that hadn't immediately rejected him for his own issues. He'd ended up closing off behind his walls, watching from a wary distance as other children formed friendships and alliances and he remained alone. Even when Lance's family had come with him to the Castle back on Earth, he hadn't known what to do with them. Lance made it look easy, but for Keith it was anything but.

 

Hunk frowned, giving him a searching look, and Keith ducked his head in discomfort. "Hey, man. Just because that," he waved a hand at Lance, who was now stomping around like some kind of monster with a delighted Balmeran on his shoulders, "doesn't come naturally to you doesn't make you bad with kids. You're just good at interacting with them in a different way." He smiled, reaching over to stroke the soft head-fur of the cub still sleeping in Keith's lap. "See? You're doing just fine with these ones."

 

Keith's cheeks reddened again, and he brushed a thumb lightly over the kid's cheek. "Thanks, Hunk."

 

"No problem." Hunk smiled warmly, then got to his feet. "Rawr! I am the evil giant Hunk, coming to aid my brother in battle!" He roared playfully as he waded into the mass of kids, who shrieked gleefully and immediately swarmed all over him.

 

Watching in silence as his two friends had fun with the kids, Keith turned Hunk's words over in his head. Different. He'd always been different, and it had never been a good thing, not once.

 

He glanced down at the sleeping child in his lap, and couldn't suppress a small smile. Except maybe this time.

 

After a while Lance flopped down beside him, breathing hard. "Okay, okay, I'm done. Tagging out. Dios, those kids have a lot of energy."

 

"Coming from you?" Pidge smirked, raising an eyebrow at him.

 

"I didn't sleep well last night." Lance admitted, biting his lip and closing his eyes. "Alejandro's nightmares keep leaking through the bond and we can't figure out how to stop it." He made a disgusted noise, throwing one arm over his face. "It's not every night, but man...I dunno how he deals with it. I'm exhausted."

 

Pidge made a sympathetic noise, and Keith couldn't help reaching over and stroking Lance's hair, drawing a sigh as the other relaxed slightly. "Which memory was it this time?" Pidge asked, leaning closer to rest her chin on Keith's shoulder.

 

"The one from when he lost his legs, apparently." Lance waved his free hand downwards without looking. "I mean, I couldn't actually see anything, I just remember darkness and feeling trapped and terrified, but we talked about it after we woke up and apparently that's what it was. He woke up pinned to the pilot's chair in the dark and couldn't feel anything below his thighs."

 

"That sounds terrifying." Pidge shuddered. She crawled around Keith to grab Lance's hand and give it a squeeze.

 

Lance nodded, letting out a deep breath. "He told me more--about Kurogane and Shiro cutting their way through Blue's hull to get to him, and how Holt saved his life that day." He pulled his arm away from his eyes to give Pidge a weak smile as she blinked owlishly at him in surprise. "Crawled under the console in a puddle of blood to find out where it was coming from, kept the others from moving the console that was pinning his legs and kept him from bleeding out, and was the one to tie on the tourniquets to what was left of his legs. You're a  _ badass _ , Pidge." He squeezed her hand in return.

 

Pidge swallowed hard, looking a little green at the description, but squeezed his hand back. Keith frowned, not quite believing the forced lightheartedness of Lance's tone. "We'll make sure it doesn't happen again, okay?" He promised, running his fingers through Lance's hair again. "I promise."

 

Startled blue eyes glanced over to him, but after a moment Lance smiled again, softer and less brittle. "I know. Thanks guys. I--oof!" He was cut off with a wheeze as a small dog-like alien landed on his stomach. "H-Hey there! What can I do for ya, buddy?"

 

The alien's ears pricked happily. "Tell us a story!" They demanded, echoed by a couple others that had followed them over to the seated group of Paladins.

 

Lance blinked. "A story?" He caught the small child in his arms as he sat up, and they nodded. "Okay, what kind of story do you guys want?" He addressed the question to the rapidly-forming cluster of children attracted by the word. Doing so proved to be a mistake as they all immediately started arguing, throwing out suggestions and disagreeing with each other.

 

"The Brave Little Balmera!"

 

"No way, that one's a baby story!"

 

"Omar-tai and the Chieftans!"

 

"You always ask for that one, Morel!"

 

"The Six Hunters!"

 

"Oooh, yeah that's a good one!"

 

"Six Hunters! Six Hunters!"

 

"I, uh, don't actually know that one." Lance blinked, grimacing at the hopeful expressions turned his way. Then he lit up and grinned. "Actually, how about this? Since I don't know it, how about you guys tell it to me?"

 

This was met with a chorus of approval, and some debate as to who should be the one to tell it. After a moment a young H'ress was pushed to the front, ducking their head shyly and clearing their throat. Lance smiled broadly and gestured for them to go ahead when ready. Finally they took a deep breath and settled back onto their hindmost pair of limbs, splaying the fingers of the other four and starting to drum their claws against the floor rhythmically. "When the Icebringer came and set the sky ablaze brighter than the brightest roaring mountain, the six hunters were born in a lonely cave high on the top of the world. They grew up together, hunted together, were pack together. But as the light faded and took the warmth with it, they found no more to hunt and no more trees grew. They knew they must leave the cave, their home, and search for a way to bring back the trees and the sh'ohl and put the world in balance again, just as it had always been."

 

The words had a sing-song chant quality to them as the youngster recounted the journey of the six hunters, one learning to predict the path of the storms and another learning to use the sun and stars to guide them, one learning to read the ice beneath their feet to keep them from danger and one to feel the warmth in some of the mountains to keep them safe at night, one learning to craft tools from the stone and one learning to guide what animals they found to better grazing so none would go hungry. Keith wasn't the only one listening with rapt fascination, but he found there was something about the story that had an odd familiarity to it...

 

"Oh my god." Hunk breathed in his ear. "It's an oral tradition."

 

Keith blinked, looking over. "A what?" He asked, keeping his voice low so as not to interrupt the storytelling.

 

"An oral tradition. A way of passing down information--laws, history, all kinds of important things. Samoa's goes back over a thousand years, but this is way, way older! This sounds like it's a retelling of the founding of H'ress civilization!"

 

The founding of a civilization? Now that Hunk pointed it out, the journey of the hunters did sound like they were developing technology, from tools, to farming, to navigation. He listened with new appreciation as the hunters founded a new pack and taught them all they had learned, and when those children grew up and went off to find new packs they took the knowledge with them. "That'd have to be, what, at least twenty thousand years ago, though, wouldn't it?" He pointed out. The H'ress had been an advanced, galaxy-travelling race even before the war started ten thousand years ago. "It can't possibly be accurate, can it?"

 

Hunk grinned, turning slightly to face him. "You'd be amazed. Oral traditions use all sorts of tricks to make sure the information doesn't get changed from generation to generation, from mnemonics and alliteration to word and syllable patterns. There are Hindu religious texts that have been passed down orally over 4000 years that even preserve the accent the language was spoken in back then. Honestly, oral tradition is probably even better than written for making sure information doesn't...get...lost..." He trailed off, eyes wide but unseeing as his jaw went slack. "...oh my god. That's it."

 

Keith eyed him warily, unsure what to make of the sudden change in demeanor. "...what's it?"

 

"I know where the clue is." Hunk breathed.

 

" _ What? _ "

 

"I know where Alfor's clue is!" Hunk smacked at Lance's arm excitedly. "Guys! I know where it is!" He scrambled to his feet, dashing out the door. "Come on! I need to talk to Shiiar'keh!"

 

"Oh my god! What are we waiting for?!" Pidge struggled to her feet as well.

 

"Guys, we can't just leave the kids here alone!" Lance yelped, looking torn, while the kids looked confused.

 

Keith settled the matter by hoisting the sleeping cub up in his arms and reaching down to pick up the other one who'd been climbing on him earlier. This was too important to wait, but if Lance said they couldn't leave the kids, then they couldn't. "Then I guess it's time for a field trip."


	60. Chapter 60

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: mild warning for grief/mourning and death mentions towards the end of the chapter.
> 
> I am so, so sorry this chapter took so long. Focus and function have been kicking my ass for the last few weeks. I know I'm also sitting on a ton of unanswered comments on this and my other fics. I promise, I am going to respond to those eventually.  
> On the subject of the comments, though, special shout-out to Naramyon, your comment binges made my week, thank you so much. Also, your comments about Kovirak led me to a horrifying moment of "oh fuck they're right" and directly spawned an entire scene in chapter 63 to tie up some ends there.
> 
> Thank you all for being so patient and for all your love and support. For those who aren't subbed to me, I have a short new oneshot up called "Four Shoulders to Carry the World" featuring a possible happy ending for Kuron.
> 
> Enjoy the chapter!

Hunk's heart thudded in his chest as he sprinted down the hallway. It was so simple. How had they never picked up on it? They'd literally spent almost an hour on the topic less than a week ago! Such a simple and effective method of passing a core concept down through generations, it had been used in every culture on Earth and across every planet in the universe.

He skidded around a corner, bouncing off a wall and nearly colliding with a couple of H'ress who scrambled to get out of his way as he regained his footing and charged toward the main cavern. For the first time he found himself cursing the fact that they'd all left their helmets on a shelf near the exit, since they weren't required for the translation link to the Castle. There was no guarantee that Shiiar'keh would be in the main room, but if he could comm Shiro, there was a good chance the Black Paladin would be with him, or know where he was, or where Matt was, either of them would do, he just needed to  _ find _ one of them--

 

Bursting into the main cavern, he looked around frantically and almost swore. The pack leader's familiar dyed back was nowhere to be seen, although quite a few people had looked up at his abrupt entrance.

 

"Ah...Paladin...do you need assistance?" One Olkari asked cautiously, setting aside some sort of sewing project and getting to their feet. "You seem distressed."

 

"I...Y-Yeah." Hunk panted, only realizing in that moment that he was out of breath from his headlong dash. "I need to talk to Shiiar'keh. Like right now."

 

The Olkari didn't question him, just gestured back the way he'd come. "I believe they are in the main terminal room. Second hallway on your right and the fourth door on your left."

 

Hunk didn't wait a second longer, shouting a thank-you over his shoulder as he whipped around and charged back into the corridor. Every fiber of him was practically vibrating. He could be wrong, but something told him he wasn't. He whipped around the right-hand turn, ignoring what sounded like Pidge yelling somewhere behind him, and ran down the hallway counting the doors. Two...three...four! He ricocheted off the doorframe as he tried to brake, caught sight of Shiro, Matt, Shiiar'keh, and the local pack leader, Nohsk'wrell, looking at him in surprise, and immediately gasped out "I figured it out!"

 

"What?" Shiro crossed over to him, resting a hand on his shoulder. "Hunk, catch your breath for a minute. Deep breaths."

 

He was pretty sure he might actually explode if he didn't get to explain like  _ right now _ , but following Shiro's instructions had become something of a habit over the last year and a bit so Hunk forced himself to pull air into his heaving lungs until they stopped burning. Shiro gave him an approving smile and nodded just as the other paladins arrived, clattering into the doorway with what looked like the entire nursery in tow. "Better. Now what were you trying to say?"

 

"I  _ said _ , I figured it out. I know where Alfor's clue is hidden." Hunk couldn't keep the grin off his face. "We were looking in all the wrong places."

 

Shiro gaped at him for a second, then straightened, and Hunk was momentarily taken aback by having the older man's full attention. Shiiar'keh appeared at his side a moment later, equally intent. "You have? Where is it?"

 

Hunk took one more deep breath, then nodded to the crowd of children by the door. "It's in the children's stories, a fairytale, a lullaby, something like that. A way of passing down a message across generations that doesn't lose the core meaning even if the details might change a bit." He noted a hint of uncertainty in Shiro's expression and frowned. "Remember those ones about the Lions, Coran, Allura, and Alfor, that Kovirak told us about? She said herself that  _ Marmora probably started half of them. _ There's stories here, too, about all of them. What's to say that Alfor and Fiorin didn't do the exact same thing?"

 

Shiro opened his mouth to protest, but was cut off by Shiiar'keh's startled bark. "Of course. It makes perfect sense. There are stories, passed down for twelves of twelves of twelves of cycles, that teach, subtly, basic principles of everything from survival to the nature of quintessence. Why not information about the aspects themselves? Nohsk'wr’ell!" They ordered. "Call for a conference of pack leaders! We must cross-reference all available information on the subject at once!"

 

The other H'ress growled an affirmative, turning back toward the computer console behind them with an agility that always caught Hunk by surprise. He leaned back against the wall, trying to calm his breathing the rest of the way, as the two pack leaders sent out comm requests and screen after screen appeared filled with the faces of the various pack leaders both on planet and aboard the ships currently moored to the elevators. Rapid explanations were made, and people began to come and go in the background of many of the screens. Compared to the complex bureaucracy of Earth, he couldn't help but marvel at the sheer simplicity of H'ress social organization. Need information from every single pack? Just conference call the pack leaders, they'll get the info and get back to you right away. A discussion was taking place between several of them, something about teaching records. Another screen popped up on another wall, dozens of files appearing in rapid succession. Transcripts of stories, he realized, squinting at the unreadable H'ress'wr text.

 

Shiro's hand coming back to rest on his shoulder made him look up, to be met with another proud smile. "Good thinking, buddy. I think you just might be right." He sighed, flashing a slightly apologetic look. "I should know better than to doubt that brilliant mind of yours."

 

Hunk flushed at the praise, but smiled back at him. "Hey, I get that it's kinda crazy. But the H'ress already have an oral tradition, I bet they're totally capable of passing down even regular children's stories accurately for ten thousand years. And what better place to hide a message where no one would notice it?"

 

"That's a very good point." Shiro nodded in agreement. He put his other arm around Keith's shoulders as the rest of the group joined them, Pidge going to hover over Matt's shoulder where his fingers were flying over a keyboard to run a multitude of keyword searches and cross-references on the incoming files. "Guess we'll find out soon." He added, watching as Pidge made an acid comment and pulled up a chair to take over Matt's search.

 

They watched for a while as the stack of files piled up on the side screen and data scrolled rapidly across Matt and Pidge's terminal. Many of the pack leaders--most were H'ress, but there were several of other races and even a couple Galra in the bunch--were consulting with other people, probably either historians or people who normally worked with the children in their packs, anyone who would know the stories told to kids. Other people came in and out of the room they were all in, some sitting at terminals after a brief discussion with Shiiar'keh to add their own knowledge. At some point Allura, arrived, arms folded across her chest and looking distinctly anxious until Coran appeared and put an arm around her, both watching the ongoing work intently. Alejandro and Kurogane followed not long after, hovering silently in the background with unreadable expressions.

 

Pidge's console beeped and Matt looked over the results. "I think we've got something. Four stories and two lullabies that all seem to contain a very similar theme at one point. Too similar to be coincidental for that many unique stories."

 

"Go ahead. What does it describe?" Shiiar'keh nodded to him.

 

The tension in the room seemed to ratchet up a notch, and Hunk distractedly thought that the H'ress had some really impressive ventilation systems in their caves because there had to be at least thirty people crammed in there by now. Matt cleared his throat, looking over the search results, and frowned. "It's...weird. As best I can summarize, it describes a sleeping king on a mountain, and his daughter coming to him one day, and some sort of gift he left for her."

 

The H'ress blinked, rumbling thoughtfully. "The Sleeping King. I know that song, I sang it the other morning."

 

"Yeah, that's one of the matches. And it sure sounds like what we're looking for--a gift left for a Princess." Matt looked over at Allura and nodded. "Not sure about the rest of it, though."

 

Coran cleared his throat, and Hunk saw him tighten his hold around Allura's waist. "Sleeping could, conceivably, refer to a cryoreplenisher. After all, Allura and I 'slept' for ten thousand cycles in them aboard the Castle of Lions." He offered. There was an odd hesitance in his suggestion, though, and Allura made a pained noise. Hunk grimaced. God, he hoped they were right. For Allura to get her other father back, and Coran get his husband back, after all this time, would be beyond incredible. Especially after that incident with the corrupted AI on the Castle...the incident made his chest hurt with sympathy just thinking about it.

 

Matt looked doubtful, though. "The Icebringers don't--" he cut himself off abruptly, biting his lip and turning back to the console. "Anyway. That doesn't answer the question of  _ where _ . There's a lot of mountains on Sh'raa H'ressnol, and there's nothing in these descriptions to narrow it down." He threw up another screen, text flashing onto it. "These are the translations of the relevant sections. I don't see anything to clue us in."

 

Hunk frowned, studying the blocks of text. His eyes focused on the smallest block, the rhyming lines suggesting a song, probably one of the lullabies.  _ The king on the lonely mountain sleeps, beneath his queen the stars. And peace will come again one day, to all from near to far. The lions roar, the flowers bloom, outside the castle's peak. And the daughter comes again one day, to kiss the king to sleep. The gift her father leaves for her will bring her joy and hope, on the day she comes to say goodnight on the lonely mountain slope. _

 

Two different lines suggested the place they were looking for was on a mountain somewhere. But nothing to indicate a specific mountain. The song couldn't afford to be specific, anyway, there was too much risk of change over all the intervening years, which was probably why there'd been so many different versions hidden in different stories. But as he looked over at the story excerpts, they all seemed to give very similar descriptions, right down to the use of the word...castle.

 

_ But it couldn't be on the Castle. It was destroyed _ _ years before Holt came here. _ He thought to himself.

 

He ran through the words one more time, puzzling through each line. First line, Alfor sleeping somewhere on a mountain. The queen in the stars...no idea. Might be a beliefs thing. He'd have to ask Allura later. Second line, peace will come again...probably a reference to their time manipulation scheme. Nothing useful there. Third line, the lions roar...no lions here, except for the Voltron Lions. Might be a key to opening them, or maybe the Lions would react if they got close. If all else failed, they could fly a planetary search pattern, see if any of them reacted anywhere. Hunk filed the thought away and kept going. The flowers bloom...did that mean the mountain was in the equatorial belt? Or did the other mountains have some kind of tundra flowers on them? Outside the castle's peak...

 

Hunk paused. Peak. Odd choice of words for a castle. Most people would say tower, or spire, wouldn't they? Peak was a word you'd associate more with mountains...

 

"Oh my god." He breathed again. "Shiiar'keh," he called. The pack leader looked over and nodded. "Can you bring up a planetary topographical map? As detailed as possible, please."

 

The H'ress flicked their tail in agreement and tapped the keyboard, and a few people hastily stepped out of the way as a large holographic globe appeared in the air in the middle of the room. Hunk ignored them, and the whispers around him, stepping closer to the sphere. The level of detail was too fine for him to make out exactly what he was looking for with a naked-eye search. Instead he looked at Pidge. "Can you do a comparative analysis and see if you can find a mountain shaped like the Castle of Lions?"

 

Pidge's eyes widened. "Holy fuck." She gasped. "Hunk, you're a genius." She muttered, turning back to the keyboard and her fingers flying over it. On the globe, a navy blue marker appeared for a moment where he knew the Castle currently stood on a glacial plain, vanished, then reappeared--along with a second marker, about a fifth of the planet's circumference away and a bit further north. "Bingo. One match, way too close in structure to be coincidental. I think we've got it."

 

For a moment, no one moved. Then Shiro stepped forward, beaming proudly at Hunk. "Paladins, to your Lions. Let's go take a look. Princess," He turned to Allura, who looked a little startled. "I'd be honoured if you and Coran flew with me."

 

It seemed to take forever to get back to the entryway, to grab their helmets and sprint across the ice to the Castle of Lions. Hunk listened with half an ear as people distributed themselves between the various Lions, Coran and Allura in Black, Kurogane and Alejandro in Blue, the others remaining behind on some unspoken mutual decision. None of the Icebringers had followed either, probably because despite the location, despite the way the clues had been hidden, this wasn't really about them. This was about Allura, and about the Paladins, and about the two time travellers who had ended up here because of Alfor's desperate scheme. They had finally, hopefully figured it out, and the only question left was what, exactly, would be waiting when they arrived.

 

Mountains and ice fields flowed past under the Lions, marked with green streaks of trees. The comm link was open, but no one was talking, everyone busy bouncing questions around in their own heads. It was Pidge who finally broke the silence, the Green Lion leading as her paladin navigated them to the coordinates her scan had given. " _ It should be just up ahead _ ."

 

A moment later they broke through a gap in the mountain ranges and Hunk heard the sharp inhalations of the others. Directly in front of them, icy slopes glittering in the morning sun, was a steep-sided mountain with four smaller spires around a larger central peak. The resemblance to the Castle of Lions was downright uncanny, although the mountain was probably larger. Had it formed that way naturally, or had Alfor and Fiorin modified it to serve as a landmark?

 

_ "Where do we go, Hunk?" _ Shiro called as they circled the formation.

 

Hunk bit his lip, thinking over the words. "Outside the castle's peak..." he muttered to himself. Probably somewhere on the central spire, then? Yellow didn't seem to be reacting, so maybe he'd been wrong about the line about Lions roaring. He nudged Yellow closer to the jagged cliffs, studying the slopes.

 

A shadow caught his eye and he yanked back on the controls to get a better look. The dark maw of a cave mouth loomed, high up and nearly hidden by the rocky folds and crags unless you were at exactly the right angle. It looked huge, easily big enough to fit the Black Lion, and there were several spots close by where other Lions could perch safely and give their paladins and passengers access to the level floor of the cave. And if he'd needed any further proof, as he watched the sunlight broke through a patch of clouds and glinted off carvings on either side of the cave. Carved statues of lions roaring. "Bingo! Follow me, I see where we need to go!" He pushed the controls forward again, diving toward the cave opening.

 

Up close, it was even bigger than he'd realized. They could probably fit all five Lions inside the cave, although they'd be single file and last one in would have to be first one out. Then the shadows abruptly engulfed them and he found himself in a large bubble of a cave, easily large enough for all the Lions, and lit by soft streaks of aqua quintessence running across the curve of the ceiling.

 

Hunk heard the awed exclamations of the others as he landed Yellow on the far side of the cave. The Lion sent him a wave of pride and amusement that the others were so impressed by his element, and Hunk couldn't help but chuckle as he patted the console. "Yeah, it is pretty cool, huh buddy?" Yellow had a right to be proud, though. Hunk would be the first to admit that caves were some of the most impressive and underrated natural structures to exist. He joined the others on the cave floor, which was smooth underfoot and unexpectedly devoid of stalactites or stalagmites. But then, those structures were formed by the flow of water, and it was barely warmer in here than outside on the icy slopes. Any water was frozen solid.

 

"Now what?" He asked as he reached them. They'd all ended up standing close to Black, in the middle of the cave. "This is definitely the place. Where do we go from here."

 

"We were just discussing that." Shiro nodded. "Nice work on figuring it out. Later you'll have explain just what it was that made you figure it out. For now, though...Pidge?"

 

Pidge nodded, tapping at her wrist computer. "We've got the mountain, saw the roaring lions...haven't seen any blooming flowers, though. That's probably our next clue."

 

Shiro hummed an agreement. "Everyone spread out and search the cave. Look for anything that looks like blooming flowers."

 

They scattered, scanning different sections of the wall and floor. Hunk's area was smooth and clear. Too clear to be natural, he thought. Alfor must have done something to carve this place out specifically to hide whatever he'd left behind. The Icebringers must have incredible equipment for stone-cutting, with the intricate way their caverns were put together, and Alfor'd probably borrowed it.

 

His musings were interrupted by a shout from Keith. "Over here!"

 

Keith's find was unquestionable. A single panel of rock wall, with some kind of closed door in the center, was intricately carved with a relief of juniberry flowers. Shiro clapped his brother proudly on the shoulder as he stepped forward to examine the door. "Nice work. Now we just need to find some way to open it."

 

That proved easier said than done. The door's seam was airtight, and there didn't seem to be any obvious activation mechanism, even when they examined the relief carvings in detail. No buttons, no moveable bits, not even a switch.

 

Lance frowned, folding his arms as he scowled at the door thoughtfully. "Maybe it's voice-activated somehow?" He suggested.

 

"As good a guess as any." Hunk muttered. He leaned in and pressed his ear to the wall, knocking lightly to see if he could sound out the control mechanisms. If they couldn't open it normally, maybe he could find some way to take it apart manually. He kept a back-up toolkit in Yellow at all times.

 

"What would the password be, though?" Pidge shot back. Green's engineering scanner had failed to locate the mechanism, much to her annoyance.

 

"How should I know?" Lance flung his arms out in either direction, nearly smacking Kurogane. "Oops, sorry. Anyway, Allura, Coran, you knew him best, got any ideas? I'm guessing our usual Earth passwords like 'Open Sesame' aren't gonna be particularly useful here."

 

Coran frowned, humming, thoughtfully. "Perhaps..." He turned directly to the door, clearing his throat. "Linnata Shei Callast. Coran Hieronymous Wimbelton Smythe." He paused a beat, frowning, then rattled off a few other phrases in Altean that didn't translate. He gave the door an uncertain look. "Odd. Alfor was not skilled at passwords, to say the least. Those were the ones he usually reverted to."

 

"Yeah, but Holt wouldn't have known any of those." Kurogane pointed out. He ran light fingers over the carvings, expression distant.

 

"So maybe it is an Earth phrase after all?" Lance offered. "Alfor and Fiorin looked into the past and saw a lot of stuff from our first year-ish, right? Was there any phrases that we used a lot that they might have thought would make good passwords?"

 

"Hmm...Form Voltron?" Pidge suggested.

 

"I'm a leg?" Lance grinned at Hunk, who snorted and turned his attention back to the wall. There had to be some way to open it, it didn't appear to be sealed shut in any way...

 

"I say Vol, you say..." Alejandro teased, elbowing Kurogane, who blushed.

 

"I'll stick you in a wormhole." Kurogane muttered back.

 

Allura groaned, rubbing her forehead. "Paladins, please..."

 

"Oooh, good one, Allura!" Pidge laughed. "How about 'girl, you've activated my particle barrier!'"

 

Lance squawked. "Hey! When did this become pick on Lance hour?"

 

"It's not our fault your pick-up lines are so memorable and so terrible." Pidge smirked.

 

"Excuse me! I'll have you know that I, Alonza Teodosio Vidal McClain-Martinez, have--"

 

He was cut off by the sudden loud grinding of a long-disused mechanism that seemed to come from almost right under Hunk's ear. He quickly jumped back in alarm as the door, protesting loudly, opened slowly upwards to reveal a long curving hallway cut into the rock and lit by more streaks of quintessence in the ceiling. The end was hidden from sight by the curve of the passage. There was a moment of silence as they all looked to Allura. She swallowed hard, and Hunk could see a hint of anxiety in her expression before she mastered it and strode forward into the opening, Coran following immediately. The others fell in behind her, single file even though there was room for two people to walk side by side.

 

The passage sloped slightly upwards as they walked, a giant spiral. Hunk let his thoughts wander as they went. He couldn't stop thinking about that first line of the song.  _ The king on the lonely mountain sleeps _ ... Had Alfor managed to get a cryopod from somewhere and hide it here? Was he waiting for his daughter to return and wake him up? But then why hadn't Holt done the same? Was she not able to activate the pod, even though the entry from the cave seemed to be accessible to anyone who knew the right password? Or had Alfor's return been short-lived, the re-awakened king lost with the Green paladin and her Lion when Sh'raa H'ressnol fell?

 

He was so lost in thought he nearly collided with Alejandro when the other man stopped abruptly in front of him. Backpedalling quickly, he peered around Alejandro's shoulder to see what was going on, but all he could tell was that the hold-up seemed to be at the front of the line, where the passage made a sudden sharp turn to the left. Shiro had moved up beside Allura, and he could see him talking quietly. Her response was too low for Hunk to hear, but there was no mistaking the pained quality of it. Coran was on her other side now, nodding to Shiro's words, and there was a tenseness, a tiredness to his features that Hunk had never seen before except for that day at the Blade base. Whatever was up ahead, it wasn't good.

 

Shiro had turned away now, and made a cutting gesture with his hands. "Everybody back down." He ordered, in a tone that brooked no argument. "They'll rejoin us in a bit."

 

Pidge frowned, trying to peer around Shiro to where Allura and Coran had disappeared around the corner. "What? But what about--"

 

"Now, Pidge." Shiro's tone was unexpectedly sharp, and Pidge's eyes widened, but she obeyed without further protest, turning around and coming up beside Hunk as they all started the long walk back. Hunk kept his eyes on Shiro, though, and his heart clenched at the sorrow in his eyes.

 

When they reached the entrance cave, Keith turned to Shiro with a frown. "What was that all about? We went all the way in there, and you just suddenly turn us around without even going in? The information we're looking for is in there, and we can't look at it from down here--"

 

"The information wasn't the only thing in that cave, Keith." Shiro sighed, then pulled off his helmet and ran a hand through his hair. "There was also...an Altean grave marker."

 

_ The king on the lonely mountain sleeps. _

 

A pained sound slipped from Hunk's lips, mingling with the equally horrified exclamations of the others. Of course. Sleep didn't have to be literal. It could also mean death. And there was that other line, too.  _ On the day she comes to say goodnight on the lonely mountain slope.  _ He felt like an idiot for not figuring it out sooner, but he'd been so fixated on finding the place that he'd forgotten to even consider that the later lines of the song might mean something too. Allura and Coran had been at the front of the line, they'd been the first to see into the room, see a grave marker hidden inside a mountain that was all that was left of a father and a husband. What a cruel blow that must have been, especially after Coran's crypod suggestion. They must have been so hopeful, only to have it dashed away completely...

 

Just thinking about it made him feel sick, made him long for his moms and sister, the safety and warmth of their arms. "They're...they're probably gonna be a while, right?" It was obviously Shiro's intention to let the two have some time to grieve in private before anything else happened. "'cause, uh, I'm...I'm gonna go call my moms for a bit. See how they're doing."

 

"Good idea. I should do that too. Alejandro, Kurogane? You want in?" Lance's voice cracked painfully, making Hunk wince. His friend was probably feeling just as bad.

 

"You go ahead." Kurogane nudged his partner. "I'll stay with Keith and Shiro. Go talk to your mom, alright?" Alejandro nodded, looking pained, and leaned in to kiss Kurogane's cheek before jogging off toward the Blue Lion with Lance.

 

Pidge was already making a beeline for the Green Lion as Hunk turned and headed for Yellow, and he grimaced as the blue glow overhead glinted off tears on her cheeks. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Kurogane make a shooing motion at Shiro, then he was inside Yellow's waiting ramp and the airlock walls blocked out the rest of the room. He hurried the rest of the way to the cockpit and dropped into the chair, feeling Yellow's concerned nudge at his mind. "I'm okay, buddy." He muttered. "Just...really need to talk to Mom and Mama right now." He tapped at the keyboard, routing a comm link through the Castle to the communicator he'd left with his family. A quick check of the time told him they should both be home, probably getting ready for bed.

 

The communicator buzzed a couple times before the connection went through, his Mama's face appearing on the screen.  _ "Hunk! Sweetheart! It's good to hear from you!"  _ She smiled happily, then it faltered to a look of alarm. _ "Sweetie, are you alright? You're crying. Is everything okay? Are you hurt? What happened?" _

 

"N-No, I'm not hurt." He wiped hastily at his cheeks. He hadn't even realized. On the screen, his Mom appeared beside Mama with a concerned exclamation. "I just...really needed to talk to you guys. See you. We, uh, we...we found Allura's Dad's grave, and it just..." He trailed off, unable to find the words for how he couldn't think of anything but seeing his own family, reassuring himself that they were safe, alive, there and waiting when he came home again.

 

Luckily, they seemed to understand without him having to explain anything to them. Mama made a pained noise of sympathy.  _ "Oh that poor girl. I'm so sorry. But I know she'll be able to get through this, with all of you looking out for her. You've all become very close out there. But we'll keep you company until she's ready for all of you to come be there for her." _ She smiled softly, running a finger down the screen in a gesture that would have been a hand caressing his cheek if he'd actually been there.  _ "Asoese made a new friend yesterday, and you would not believe the trouble the two of them managed to get into when we took our eyes off them for five minutes..." _ She rolled her eyes expressively.

 

She proceeded to give him a blow-by-blow account of Asoese's adventure exploring a storm drain with her new friend, a rather adventurous child named Delaine who was visiting from Ireland. The escapade had lasted several hours, involved a dozen police officers, a team of sewer maintenance workers, and one absolutely frantic uncle who'd been watching the girl and her twin brother while their father was busy. By the end of the retelling Hunk was in stitches as Mom described Asoese vigorously protesting being subjected to a bath even after literally swimming in sewer water. 

 

_ "...it's easy to laugh about now, but let me tell you, that child is grounded until she's twenty for scaring us like that." _ She concluded with a disgusted growl. 

 

Hunk laughed, nodding in agreement as he wiped tears of amusement from his eyes. "She's going to be an absolute terror her whole life, isn't she? Tried to make friends with a beached shark when she was two and just never stopped."

 

Mama snorted.  _ "And don't we know it." _ She sighed, glancing off to the side.  _ "I think we need to let you go, baby. Will you be alright?" _

 

"Yeah, I think so." Hunk's smile faltered at the reminder of exactly why he'd called in the first place, but he straightened in his chair. Allura and Coran needed them to be there for them once they came down from the cave. "Thanks, Mom, thanks, Mama. I love you guys. Give Asoese a hug for me, will you?"

 

_ "Of course, sweetheart. We love you too. Stay safe, okay?" _

 

"Will do. Talk to you soon." He cut the connection off with a sigh just as Yellow nudged his mind. Allura and Coran were coming back. The team's support would be needed, and Hunk was the core of that support. "I hear ya. Let's do this." He squared his shoulders and headed for the ramp.


End file.
